HalfLife: Mercy is Not an Option
by MikeFS
Summary: Me first story that I ever bothered to finish. A retrospectively childish story of Marines in Black Mesa taking on everything from the normal aliens to rebel alien slaves to Russian mercenaries. Silly, but it has a place in my heart!
1. Prologue: Reinforcements

This is nothting more than a fan-fic that I am doing just for fun. Any names connecting to reality are a coincidence. Also any similarities to other Half-Life fan-fictions are also purely coincidental, so please don't gripe about stealing ideas.  
  
Half-Life: Mercy is Not an Option  
  
Prologue: Reinforcements  
  
Location: Black Mesa, somewhere in Southwest U.S. Time: 0900 hours. Any passer-by would note that a black dot was moving in the horizon. One who would be any closer would see the dot was a green military helicopter. Anyone closer would be shot, due to seeing too much. The mission was to be completely secret: no information would leak into the public. Utter chaos would flow across the globe if anyone knew of the Black Mesa incident.  
  
These words had been repeated to private Dylan Henderson and all the other marines on the helicopter. Henderson sighed at the words: such secrecy would only mean that this would be history's most dangerous military mission. No further information would be given been given until 20 miles from the target: the Black Mesa compound.  
  
"Hey, Dylan!" a fellow marine called. Henderson turned to look at private Greshwald, his companion from boot-camp. "I heard that this is such a dangerous mission that the assassins were called!" Greshwald said, and Dylan couldn't help but smile back. "You don't seem that scared," he answered.  
  
"Scared? You kidding me? Ever since becoming a marine I ain't got any piece of the action!" Greshwald piped like an excited puppy. "Don't you wanna take on some terrorists and such?" he asked Dylan. He wasn't so sure. Ever since his brother had been stabbed through the heart with a switchblade, Dylan couldn't stand fighting. Dylan's brother had been dealing cocaine when an angry client decided to pay him back. For this reason Dylan joined the army, so he could always be ready if a situation like that came up.  
  
"I dunno," Dylan finally said, "this can be our only battle that we see, we could get killed." "Bah!" Greshwald exclaimed. "Every mission has that danger! Right guys?" he asked the other marines. They all nodded and then returned to playing cards with each other.  
  
Then lieutenant Manners stepped in from the cockpit. The marines rose up to salute their fearless leader. "At ease, men," Manners said and the marines sat back down. "All right, men, it's time for mission briefing." When Manners added this, the marines all got excited. Everyone in the group was a newbie, and they were all at least a bit hoping for a fight.  
  
Manners pulled a small projector from the cockpit and set it up. The picture was unfortunately small in the cramped helicopter. The two ospreys had been sent an hour ago to Black Mesa, so all reinforcements had to travel in the Apaches. The picture on the wall was of the main building and it's nearby compounds.  
  
"As you know, an hour ago main troops were dispatched to deal with a terrorist problem. But what I am about to tell you is not to be told anywhere outside Black Mesa. The grim secret must remain that: a secret." The marines fell silent. This didn't sound good. The projector switched to show a yellowish crystal.  
  
"Does anyone know what gem this is?" the lieutenant asked. Unlike most leaders, Manners tried to be nice to his men when not in battle. A hand rose. "Yes, private Erwin?" Manners asked. "It's a topaz, SIR! And might I mention a rather large one, SIR!" private Erwin exclaimed. "WRONG!" Manners said. Dylan had a surprised look on his face: he didn't know of any other gem like that which wasn't a topaz. "There is no substance like this on the face of the Earth!" Manners' words caused everyone to gasp.  
  
"That's right! The 'terrorists' are actually something not from this planet, maybe not from this solar system!" Another gasp shook the room. The projector now showed a huge reactor sending down beams onto the alien rock.  
  
"This machine was meant to be used for creating a portal inside Black Mesa to code name X-599, a planet somewhere far away. The experiment resulted in the mass teleportation of extra-terrestrial beings into the compound." Manners sighed. The projector switched to show the team of scientists and guards of Black Mesa.  
  
"Our team was sent with two objectives: 1. Destroy alien personnel. 2. Destroy the Black Mesa team. I know it's sad, but they must not reach civilisation, the world is not ready to know of other inhabitants in the universe. The mission is too great a task for our marines, so that is why YOU have been called!" Manners pointed at the marines. Dylan's face turned pale as he started to understand. "You have those both objectives, and the only objectable failure is death!" Now even Greshwald started wishing he had stayed home. They could always take on Arabs, but not something from another planet. "You also have a third objective," Manners continued and the projector switched to show a man in an orange suit. The man looked like one of the bookish type, except for his strange suit and the SPAS-12 in his hands. "This is Gordon Freeman, one of the Anomalous Materials group. He has been able to elude our marines for a long time now, and was last sighted in the rocket testing facility. This man was capable of clearing the room out of three gigantic tentacles, and is armed to the teeth. Try to take him alive, but obviously dead is fine too." Dylan did not seem so impressed by Freeman. He looked like one of the nerds at high-school.  
  
Dylan suddenly seemed appalled and intrigued when the projector showed a small lump of pink skin with stubby legs. "Our soldiers have catalogued 3 aliens and their behaviour, though it is important to know sights of up to a dozen different aberrations has been sighted. Now, enemy #1: subject HC-9, dubbed headcrab. This little bugger moves slowly, but is able to spring from the ground at extreme speed. It is a small thing, but dangerous. The headcrab always aims for the head. Once there, it will slice open the scalp and dig into the brain, taking control of the host. Kill them with all means necessary."  
  
Now the projector switched to show a red clump with a mouth and an incredibly long tongue. "Enemy #2: subject BN-29, dubbed barnacle. This is the least dangerous enemy when sighted, but should still be avoided. The thing is immobile and is latched onto the ceiling. It will constrict anyone under it with it's tongue and pull him up into it's mouth, where it will continue to bite the person in half. It's immobility is a virtue, for it is easy to walk around. Do not kill them if you're ammo is running low."  
  
Greshwald screamed and Dylan felt sick when the third alien was shown. It was a humanoid-like beast, covered with wrinkly brown skin with patches of green here and there. The thing's face was covered with red orb-like eyes, covering the face like a bad case of herpes. "This is enemy #3: subject AS-33, dubbed the alien slave, due it's blind obedience to the greater aliens. Don't think it's status makes it any easier to kill, the alien slave moves at alarming speed and is capable of amassing a high charge of electricity into it's body, which it projects as a beam at the enemy. Kill them on sight, do not let them live."  
  
"That is all. Be sure to check your weaponry and eat your rations, this will be a long day," the lieutenant concluded. The marines groaned and Dylan felt like his mother had been taken hostage by terrorists.  
  
"Man, we are in SUCH deep shit!" Greshwald cried out, and most agreed with him. Most started to wish they had become civilians, and they continued till Dylan was about to scream.  
  
"Dammit you fools, what the Hell is wrong with you?!" he stood up. "We were trained to fight on, no matter what the enemy was. I know this is a bit more literal than what they meant, but Hell, they're living things just like us! We're meant to kill without objection, and the enemy's amount of eyeballs doesn't change the fact. I'm gonna go kick alien ass, and I'll be damned if you don't do the same!"  
  
Dylan's speech brought more courage to the men who cheered, and by the time the first Black Mesa buildings appeared, the guns were checked and the men's stomachs full.  
  
I know, it's long, but I want to right a real thing, not some short piece of text. Expect more action in Chapter 1, and ciao! 


	2. Dam Team Takes a Fall

(Before reading you should know: I told a friend about chapter 1 and apparently the beginning is a copy of Half- Life. Opposing Force. Now, I made it a bit different, but it's still an almost copy. For those who have played Opposing Force, this is NOT going to be a novelisation of it. I haven't played any of the other games, so any other resemblance are coincidental. Though I doubt that, I'm planning on introducing something never before seen in Half- Life (I think).)  
  
Chapter 1: Dam Team Takes A Fall  
  
The residential area of Black Mesa laid in ruins. Most buildings had collapsed, others were badly damaged. Dylan looked at all this as the chopper passed over them. He hadn't seen this kind of damage ever, except maybe in the New York slums. Nevertheless, he had an uneasy feeling of creeping doom.  
  
"Sir, what the Hell's caused this damage?" he asked lieutenant Manners.  
  
"Aliens," Manners replied. "They begun the attack. The F- 22's came by and bombed the place. That's why it's so quiet. Most aliens were killed off in the fly-by attack."  
  
"All right men, listen up!" he called. "We're being stationed at the dam. From now on, we're part of Dam Team. Our objective is to..." Manners' words were cut short when he heard a sound if something had been spit out.  
  
"What the..?" the pilot asked as a puddle of green fluid struck the window. The liquid started to melt through the window and fell on the controls. The pilot screamed in agony as his fingers were covered by the acid. The marines looked out of the windows. A pack of strange quadrupeds were standing on the rubble of what looked like an office building.  
  
The things were obviously not of this world. They reminded Dylan of a monitor lizard, except the head was replaced by a mass of red tentacles. The creatures spat acid from their mouth in unison, and the puddles flew through the hole in the windshield. The pilot rolled in agony on the cockpit floor. Dylan stepped backwards feeling sick as the flesh literally peeled of the pilot's skin.  
  
"SHIT!" Manners yelled as the chopper started coming down.. "Get ready! We're gonna crash land!" he said and started to pilot the falling Apache at the monsters. The copter smashed into the rubble, taking out most of the aliens. The force made Dylan and the others topple onto the ground.  
  
They heard a large jolt as the only surviving acid-spitter jumped onto the ceiling. Dylan heard a sound like a plunger was stuck on a surface, and then a fizzling noise. The marines looked up to see the chopper's mangled roof turning darker and breaking open. The creature stuck it's head through the hole, only to find it's face inches away from Greshwald's M4. He opened fire on it. The creature toppled backwards covered with bullet holes.  
  
"Yeah!" Greshwald cheered. "I scored first hit! Woo!" But lieutenant Manners wasn't that happy.  
  
"Don't bother partying. Now we have to walk to the dam," he said opening the chopper door and stepping out onto an empty street.  
  
"Sir! Can't we just stay here and clear the area of enemy personnel?!" private Stockman argued stepping out with the others. The team's morale was low. They were stuck in enemy territory with no idea where to head.  
  
"Negative, private Stockman," Manners answered. "We're Dam Team. Were need to head out for the dam. No objections."  
  
"Sir! We have a much larger chance of living by staying here! You saw what those things did! It's murder going there!" Stockman yelled back.  
  
"Orders are orders, private Stockman. No objections!" Manners repeated angrily.  
  
"This sucks!" Stockman called and started walking towards the desert. "You know what?! I ain't gonna stay around for this shit! I'm going to the nearest town here!"  
  
"FINE! You do that, deserter!" Manners' face was blazing red. This wasn't the situation for subtlety, and they didn't have time to waste trying to get others to go on.  
  
Stockman didn't have to go far when the enemy struck again. He suddenly tripped backwards as the sand started to rise as a mound. Dylan was in shock. This was just like in that pathetic mummy movie he had seen a few years back. The sand would rise upwards and release a deadly wave of killer beetles that would devour everything in their paths. But this thing wasn't a pack of beetles, it was BIG.  
  
The marines watched, almost mesmerised, as a huge green cord rose from the ground. Stockman looked upwards at it. The tentacle could almost be considered beautiful, and it rose tens of feet into the air. It's end was tipped with a black claw the size of a Jeep Cherokee, which it lifted backwards. The thing released a low hum like a sound a whale makes. The sound made the marines feel more tranquil.  
  
"It's yawning," Manners said to the others. "It must have just woken up." But Dylan, paralysed by fear, saw something completely different. He could see the medieval executioner, lifting his axe behind his head, ready to drop it onto the tied victim's neck.  
  
"Stockman!" he panicked. "Get the hell outta there! It's gonna drop down!"  
  
Manners also noticed this and cursed his ignorance. "Dammit! Henderson's right! Open fire!" he called and the marines pulled up their M4's and started firing on the creature.  
  
If the tentacle even felt any pain, it wasn't showing it. The marines were too late: it dropped down with amazing speed. Time seemed to slow down as the claw plunged straight through the lying Stockman, spewing blood all over the marines. Dylan watched in horror as the still screaming Stockman rose into along with the claw. The tentacle, seemingly annoyed by the small object on it's tip, starting wildly shaking Stockman around, trying to shake him off, but only being able to re-paint the area with red.  
  
The marines continued emptying round after round into the thing, which finally threw away Stockman's tattered body, but their attacks were in vain. Dylan noticed a standing building to the side, and he saw the only hope of making it alive. Using his grenade launcher, Dylan fired a shell into the wall. But luck had ended: the wall survived the blast.  
  
The tentacle heard the explosion of the grenade through the commotion, and struck at the source. To Dylan's surprise, the tentacle did his job for him and punctured a gaping hole into the structure's wall.  
  
"This way, sir!" he called running at the gap in the wall while firing at the tentacle.  
  
"He's right! This way!" Manners called, leading the marines as they ran for the hole. The tentacle was finally showing some damage, and squirmed around hollering awful moans. The marines used this short break in the creature's attack to get into the building.  
  
In the house, the marines finally had a chance to rest. "Take it easy, men, while I call Dam Team," Manners said sitting down and pulling out his radio. The building seemed to be a cafeteria for Black Mesa personnel, filled with tables and chairs and a few pots in the middle table. The marines sat down gloomily onto the chairs. There were no sounds apart from the moaning tentacle which had now lost it's prey. Dylan finally had an idea of how hopeless the situation was: the aliens were much more capable of fighting, and there were so many of them. They had already lost two people, if the pilot was counted. What where they going to do against such odds?  
  
"Dam Team, come in. Dam Team, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy?" Manners spoke into his radio. At first there was nothing more than static, but then the transmission started to clear.  
  
"This is Dam Team. Who is this?" the sound came, and the soldiers turned to listen. Sounds of gunfire were heard in the background, with the occasional scream and sometimes an electrical buzz.  
  
"This is lieutenant Manners of the Dam Team reinforcements, sir." Manners answered.  
  
"Manners?! Where the Hell are you?! The aliens are gaining the upper hand!"  
  
"Sir, our chopper was taken out by the aliens. The alien in question was a quadruped with a tentacled face, and the ability to spit out acid."  
  
"Right, a BS-49. We just call 'em bullsquids. "  
  
"Look, we're stuck in what looks like a cafeteria in the northwest. We need to get there, sir. Any help?"  
  
"Well, we haven't got any men to spare, but Patrol Team's gonna head for that direction. We'll contact them to pick you up."  
  
"Right. Where's the rendezvous point?" Manners asked, staring out of a window. He silently cursed at the sight. The noise caused by the gunfire and the tentacle's moans had caused a pack of bullsquids to come by. The thinds were crawling all over the place. Going out would be suicide.  
  
"There's a radio mast about 2 miles away from your position. Get there. We'll call you once Patrol Team's nearby the mast. Over and out."  
  
"Yes, sir. Over and out." Manners said gloomily and kicked the table when the transmission had ended. "Dammit! We're stuck here, way too far away from our target! How the Hell are we gonna get there?"  
  
The marines started to search the cafeteria for any way out. There didn't seem any way out without meeting the bullsquids. They checked under the tables, but there wasn't any hatches. A few tiles were pulled off the floor, but there was only cement under them. One marine looked into one of the pots. That was a mistake.  
  
As soon as he had touched the cover, it blew off, sending a spray off pea soup into his face. The marines stopped to watch as the other pots burst open. Out of them crawled the headcrabs that they had been briefed about. One of the sick things leaped out and at the marine covered with soup. Surprised, he quickly pulled his gun upwards, butting the headcrab backwards. Dylan emptied his clip into the headcrab, but now the other two leaped at the marine. The other one latched onto his gun, which he threw aside, but the other grabbed onto his leg.  
  
The marine fell on his knees in pain as he felt a sharp object slicing through his pants and into his leg. The other headcrab let go of the gun and leapt at the marine, only to crash into the wall in a liquid form as it was met by fire from the marines. The injured marine rolled on the ground as he could feel his leg turning numb from the crabs sedative- like poison, but the pain ended as Greshwald leaped onto the headcrab and plunged his combat knife into it's head. The crab squirmed and rolled off the marine's leg.  
  
"You ok?" Dylan asked lending a hand. The marine pulled himself up and leaned onto the table.  
  
"No... grunts.. uh... here," he whispered but everyone knew it wasn't so. The cut was done precisely, and the pant wasn't shred at all. Dylan pulled his pant upwards, but stepped backwards at the sight. The cut was a tenth of an inch wide, yet it had gone deep like a knife. Manners came over and slightly widened the wound, and everyone could see the strike had gone all the way to the bone.  
  
"Great, now it's even more important to get out of here and to a medic," Manners sighed and tied a piece of cloth around the wound to stop the blood from coming. "All right, we have to search every nook and cranny now! Let's move!"  
  
The marines ran off to look everywhere. Dylan noticed the door marked 'kitchen' and went in. It was still hopeless: there were no exits. The room was small and had an oven, a sink, a washing machine, a refrigerator, a table, and a door which said storage. He opened the storage door, but leaped to the side as a puddle of acid flew at his face.  
  
"Help!" he called and closed the door with his body. He tried to keep it closed, but the bullsquid crashed through the door, toppling Dylan under him. As soon as he realised the creature above him, Dylan started to wrestle it with all his might to keep the acid-drooling mouth away from his face. The two rolled around the ground, crashing into the table. A sharp knife fell from the table, and Dylan rolled around so the bullsquid was on top of him. The knife plunged into the bullsquid's back, which screamed in anger and spat a glob of acid into the washing machine.  
  
The other marines were by now at the place, but lieutenant Manners stopped them. "Don't shoot! You'll hit Henderson!" The marines put down their weapons to watch their struggle. Dylan stood up, holding the squid in a bear hug, but immediately fell backwards onto the sink. The squid's tentacles wrapped around his face as he lowered his head into the sink. Then he noticed a trash compactor in the pipe.  
  
"Guys! Someone turn on the compactor!" he called and rolled around, pushing the squid's head into the sink. One of the marines leapt to the switch and turned it on. Dylan forced the squid's head into the sink, and soon the thing's head started to shred into pieces. Dylan didn't stop pushing downwards until the bullsquid stopped twitching. The he fell backwards onto the floor, breathing heavily and sweating profusely.  
  
"Heh! Way to go, Dylan!" Greshwald called and went into the tiny storage room. A short burst of gunfire was heard and the dead body of a headcrab flew through the door. Greshwald came back with his head hanging. "We're stuck. The storage room only has a small window which leads outside and into the bullsquids. I only found this," he said tossing a medikit to lieutenant Manners.  
  
"It'll fix his leg a little, but we still need to get him to medic," Manners said using the kit's equipment on the wounded soldier's leg. Leaning on his rifle, the marine was able to limp along with the others.  
  
"Hey, wait a minute!" Dylan called climbing up and looking at the molten washing machine. There was a small grating under the machine. "The sewer system! We forgot about that!"  
  
"Stand back, everyone!" Manners called pulling off the grating from the small pipe. Everyone's eyes widened and they ran backwards as the lieutenant pulled the pin off a grenade and dropped it into the pipe. "FIRE IN THE HOLE!!!" he called diving through the kitchen door, shortly followed by an explosion.  
  
The explosion had revealed a gaping hole into a huge sewer pathway. "I thought they only had these kinds of sewers in Paris or London," Dylan said as he looked down and saw the pipe was at least 100 feet wide.  
  
"It's probably a maintenance pipe," Manners said coming over. "All right, listen up!" he called pointing through a window at a building on the other side of the road. "The pipe looks like it leads over to that building. Judging from the huge car doors, that place is a garage. With good luck there'll be a ride of some kind. We can outrun the bullsquids on it over to the radio mast, so let's move!"  
  
The marines started to climb down into the sewers. Manners took the lead and lit his flashlight. Dylan stayed behind, guarding the wounded marine. He cursed for forgetting to bring a flashlight, so he had to follow the small shine of light in the distance. The soldiers moved in single file on a walkway to the side. Dylan wished he had a light to see if he was about to step into the sewer water snaking around next to him, and to his surprise, his wish was granted. A green flash behind him slightly lighted the hallway.  
  
Dylan sighed with relief, but quickly realised something was wrong. First of all, there was no one behind him, so no one could have lit a flashlight. Secondly, the military didn't have any green flashlights. "Get down!" he called and plunged the wounded marine and himself into the sewer water, just as a green lightning flew over his back and striking the soldier in front of him. Dylan could smell the phosphorus in the air, and jumped upwards to see the silhouette of the largest fear the marines had at the moment: subject AS-33, the alien slave.  
  
Dylan had expected the monster to be larger, but here it was, as tall as him probably. He quickly threw away his doubts as he remembered the lightning attack Manners had described and picked his gun up. "Let's see if your as tough as their hyping about," he hissed and shot a grenade. The other marines had by now realised their current enemies and turned ready to fire. The alien slave dived surprisingly agilely into the sewer water, causing the grenade to harmlessly explode. The marines fired in unison into the water, hoping to hit it. Dylan did so as well, until the next attack came.  
  
A sewer grating burst open to his left, striking him into the water. Another slave crawled out of the pipe next to him, and leaped onto Dylan. The grating was protecting Dylan from the alien's claw attacks, but the thing was strong, and Dylan's improvised shield wouldn't last long. Luckily, the marines took it out, causing it to topple into the waters.  
  
The other slave appeared, damaged from the attacks, and ready chomp on Dylan. Dylan couldn't imagine the surprise the alien felt when a long, sinewy tongue fell from the roof, wrapping around it. The alien struggled to pull itself off, but the barnacle's mighty strength was enough to pull the alien into it's gaping mouth. Dylan crawled backwards and helped the wounded marine up as the barnacle spat out the slave's other half. They continued walking, this time wary of the shadows.  
  
(So ends Chapter 1. Since this is the first real chapter in the story, this is the one that decides is my writing worthy enough to exist in fanfiction.net. So please, if you've read this, read and review, and please mention if I should go on. With good luck, I'll begin Chapter 2!) 


	3. On The Move

(The story seemed to be popular enough, so I opted to make Chapter 2. Thank you to all of you for enjoying my little creation so far. I'm going to take this moment to answer your reviews.  
  
Blizrun: Thanks dude!  
  
Jason Storm: Thanks to you too!  
  
Raider: The pilot died due to peeling off of skin, remember? Hope that clears up your problems. Thanks, by the way.  
  
Hao: Yeah, I admit that was pretty unrealistic that the Apache carried a whole squad, but I wanted to picture the small amount of ospreys they had. Oh, and thanks (you're getting the picture by now, right?).  
  
Gonzalo Gesualdo: Um... ok... thank you too, even if it was to just mention Counter-Strike...  
  
Well, anyways, enjoy chapter 2!)  
  
Chapter 2: On The Move  
  
The sewer was only a short walk to the other side of the road, but the marines had to stop to rest. As soon as the barnacle had killed the alien slave, the roof had been littered by them. No one had died, which Dylan was thankful for, but near deaths had occurred as a few marines had been surprised by the mouths. They had been able to kill them off before they could chomp on the marines, but the drop had taken the juice out of them. Everyone was happy when lieutenant Manners signalled a stop.  
  
"We're under the opposite building. A 5-minute break, then we blast on into the building," he said and everyone slumped onto the ground.  
  
Dylan wiped sweat from his forehead and watched in the dim flashlight how debris flowed along the sewer. The batteries ran from the light a bit later, and Dylan could hear Manners cursing as he turned the light on recharge. In the dark he noticed someone walk up to him.  
  
"Hey, Dylan!" it was Greshwald. He sat down next to Dylan and continued. "Doesn't this suck? We're stuck in a desert surrounded by unworldly monsters."  
  
"Yep, it sure does," Dylan said smiling slightly, "but think of the bright side: we've got bigger guns than they do."  
  
"Dylan, they've got bigger CLAWS than we do," Greshwald said nervously as he remembered the tentacle that had slaughtered Stockman.  
  
"Yeah, I guess you're right. So, what are we gonna do if we ever get outta here?"  
  
"If the army's always like this, I'm gonna get a job as a mailman. This is way too creepy for me."  
  
"But hey, we'll get rich when we tell everyone that aliens exist."  
  
"No you won't!" Manners said as he had been listening to the conversation. "This is top-secret. Why do you think objective 2 is to kill the Black Mesa personnel? The knowledge of a hostile race somewhere out there would send the world into chaos!"  
  
Dylan sighed. "That means we don't gain anything from this."  
  
"You rarely gain anything apart from fame and experience in the military," Manners pointed out, but then walked off with his gun. "Ok, get ready, it's time to move!" he called switching on the now recharged flashlight and aiming it up on the roof.  
  
"Stay back, you! I'm taking aim!" he warned, aimed for a second, and shot a grenade at the roof. He immediately jumped into the water to dodge any falling rubble. The explosion cleared a hole into the floor of the building above them, and the light from a rooftop window shined down on them. Then, to the marines' surprise, they heard human voices.  
  
"Oh my god! What was that!" a frail voice came from above.  
  
"I dunno, something blast the floor open," another voice with a slight Texan accent came.  
  
The marines stared upwards as a man in a blue security outfit appeared to the hole. Both sides were equally surprised.  
  
"Hey guys, it's the cavalry! We're saved!" he called behind him as Manners climbed from the water and stood under the hole. "Here, lemme give you a hand," the man reached down to grab Manners, but he only clutched the barrel of Manners' rifle. Without further ado, he opened fire, sending the man flying backwards.  
  
"He's a Black Mesa guard! Get up there now! Shoot to kill!" he called climbing up. The marines started to quickly climb upwards, and the sound of gunfire increased as more soldiers got up. Dylan came last as he had to help the marine with the wounded leg up the hole. When he came up, he saw that the room indeed was a garage. Right now there were only 2 Jeeps in the room, and also a couple of Black Mesa guards and three scientists. They were firing at the marines, who outnumbered them, but quickly started to retreat behind one of the Jeeps.  
  
"I need three people to get behind the other Jeep for cover fire! The rest are going in!" Manners called, and three marines raced behind the other Jeep, firing from behind the hood. The rest ran between the two Jeeps to fire at the Black Mesa personnel. Dylan seemed slightly appalled by the sight he was seeing. The guards had nothing better than pistols and were outnumbered two to one, and here a group of marines armed to the teeth were slowly picking them out one by one. A scientist crashed backwards from a headshot, and two guards quickly followed him.  
  
"Why are you doing this?!" a scientist called sitting behind the Jeep.  
  
"Why? We kill cause it's our job!" Manners called grinning as he laid down on the ground. There he picked out the scientist's legs and shot them. The scientist toppled, and Manners finished the job. The guards were now starting to hide behind the growing pile of dead bodies, but they were quickly silenced once Dylan shot a grenade among them. He felt horrible after doing that, he had just killed off innocent people. He reminded himself quickly that they were the cause of the aliens, and pulled himself together. The grenade had blown body parts all across the room, and now there were no surviving Black Mesa personnel left. Well, except for one.  
  
"Look who we have here," Manners laughed as he saw the third and final scientist hiding behind an oil barrel behind the corner. He pulled up his gun, ready to pull the trigger on his grenade launcher.  
  
"Wait!" Dylan called leaping to push the gun aside, but it was too late: Manners sent a grenade, which shortly made the scientist join his companions smeared across the wall.  
  
"Sir! Did you forget the wounded marine?! That man could have healed his leg!" Dylan yelled at the lieutenant.  
  
"He was an enemy. We were not supposed to spare him. Mercy is not an option," Manners grimly answered back.  
  
"At least you could have let him fix the marine's leg and then kill him!" Dylan yelled back.  
  
"Fine, next scientist who we meet we spare for as long as the wounded are healed. Happy now, private Henderson?" Manners angrily said.  
  
"Fine," Dylan lowered his head with rage. The lieutenant had seemed like such a nice guy at first, but it turned out he was just a merciless killer who blindly followed orders.  
  
Manners walked over to a guard's body and grabbed his pistol. "We're running out of ammo, so grab their weapons. There isn't enough for everyone, so those with the least bullets, take a gun." He then leaped into one of the Jeeps and happily noticed the key had been left there. "Ok, so we've got a dozen of us and two rides. Three people get on the seats, and the other three sit on the trunk. They'll be the gunners."  
  
The marines started to move into the cars, but stopped when a noise like a jet-plane came from above. They looked up to see a manta ray-like form hover over the rooftop window. Dylan wasn't sure if it was a machine or a living being, but he didn't have time to ponder as an alien slave dropped from the ship and crashed through the window.  
  
"Incoming!" Dylan called and started firing upwards. A few more slaves dropped from the ship, which then left from the scene. A shard of glass fell into Dylan's hand, and he gritted his teeth from the pain. The first alien was dead from the marines' bullets once it fell on the ground, but the others were still standing when they landed. The marines once again went used the Jeeps as cover as the fire fight began. The aliens' electric beams were accurate, but it took a while for them to load it, and the marines used this opportunity to lob grenades among them. The slaves died before they knew what hit 'em. There were no killed, but most were wounded.  
  
"All right, now as I saying before I was interrupted, get in the cars, now!" Manners called, and the marines climbed on. Dylan was the gunner of a Jeep which Greshwald was driving.  
  
"You do have a driving licence, right?" Dylan nervously asked as he sat on the trunk.  
  
"Nah, I joined the military before getting one," Greshwald laughed back, which made Dylan really reconsider sitting in the same car as his buddy.  
  
"Ok men, when we're 5 feet away from the car doors, shoot them with a grenade," Manners ordered and pushed on the pedal.  
  
The bullsquid stared around confused. He and his pack-mates had heard the tentacle holler for finding prey, but now it couldn't find anything. The squid knew the tentacle didn't moan for fun, it always had a reason. It had just lately got used to the alien world it was on, but it seemed like it had just learned a new trait of the local inhabitants: they seemed to be able to disappear into thin air. The bullsquid's attention was called to a large explosion next to it. The pack turned to look and see two objects moving straight at them. The last thing the bullsquid remembered was seeing a huge slab of metal slam into it.  
  
"WOOHOHOO!" Greshwald laughed as he stared at the squid he rammed. "Did you see that, Dylan? Got one!" he laughed. Dylan did not have time to think of that, as he had to concentrate on hanging on Greshwald's bumpy ride AND shoot at the pursuing bullsquids simultaneously. They were slowly gaining distance from the squids, but the squids were still able to spit at them.  
  
"Greshwald! Veer left!" Dylan called as a shot came at them. The Jeep turned slightly to the left, and the blob of acid whizzed past Dylan's head. The squids were starting to be left behind, but it seemed like all the buildings around them were teeming with the creatures. Three marines per car didn't seem to be enough to gun all the squids appearing from the rubble. They had to concentrate more on holding on than shooting as Greshwald and Manners had to do all they could to dodge the acidic projectiles.  
  
"It's too crowded here!" Manners called from the leading Jeep. "Turn over to that side alley!" The Jeeps made a tight curve to the right and ducked into the small alcove in single file. Now it was easier to fire as the attacks were only coming from behind, but now their back route was blocked as the squids flooded in.  
  
"Damn those things are fast!" Greshwald yelled, and pushed harder on the pedal. Out of nowhere, Manners' leading car pushed the brakes, and Greshwald was just able to react and slow his Jeep so it only slightly touched the leading Jeep's bumper. "Sir, what now?" Dylan called nervously looking backwards as the squids were coming closer.  
  
"You have fucking got to be kidding me," Manners whispered as an all too familiar mound of sand was rising in the tight alleyway. The marines stopped to stare in awe as the tentacle burst out of the sand and rose above the Jeeps.  
  
"You again?! Fuck this!" Dylan screamed as the tentacle started to rear backwards again like it had done with Stockman. They frantically looked around for a way out, but they were stuck between a pack of bullsquids and the killer tentacle. It seemed like they only had one option.  
  
"Hey, Greshwald. Remember how you were happy to ram into that bullsquid? Wanna do that again?" Dylan whispered. Greshwald answered by grinning and shifting gear to reverse. Whatever the squids were thinking, they most certainly weren't expecting a hunk of metal to propel at them. The strike caused the bullsquids to fly out of the alley and onto the street. The vehicles shortly followed and turned to their original direction. The tentacle used it's killing blow, but the claw barely missed Manners' Jeep, pulling the bumper of.  
  
"All right, we avoid alleyways. Continue down our original pathway," Manners called taking the lead again. It finally seemed like the squids were ending, and the marines rejoiced as the last squid came to a halt. The area they were in now was more quiet, and the marines felt uneasy. Where were the aliens?  
  
The next attack the marines weren't expecting, and it caused a lot of commotion. They heard the same roaring voice as in the garage, and looked up to see the manta ray flying over them. An alien slave fell down and crashed onto the front hood of Greshwald's Jeep.  
  
"Sweet Jesus get off!!!" Greshwald yelled and pushed the pedal to the metal. The alien, trying to climb over the windshield, suddenly tumbled backwards and between the three marines on the seats as the sudden movement jerked it backwards. The marines screamed in horror at their new guest, which seemed just as surprised as they were.  
  
"Dammit! After him!" Manners called as his Jeep continued on. The dropship started following them, dropping slaves onto the road. "Don't shoot at them, take out that dropship!" Manners called to the gunners, which started firing at the hovering manta ray. The alien in Greshwald's Jeep still couldn't understand what was going on, but the marines had by now gathered themselves together, and threw the alien out. It was run over by Manners' Jeep, which was firing at the flying enemy pursuing them.  
  
"Greshwald, you psychopath! Slow down!" Dylan called firing at the dropship, which finally gave up the chase and disappeared over the side buildings. They had moved fast enough so the slaves had stopped chasing them. The two Jeeps slowed down. Manners stood up and looked around.  
  
"Hmm..." Manners thought. "Were the heck is that radio mast? Henderson, I want you to climb that water tower over there and check out the area."  
  
"Me?! Why!" Dylan yelled.  
  
"We made a deal that I'd spare one of those scientists for our wounded. Now do your end of the deal and get up there!" Manners growled.  
  
Dylan shook his head as he walked off at the water tower to the side of the road. All marines turned their guns in Dylan's direction in case aliens would appear. He made it to the tower and started climbing. He was quickly reminded by the shard of glass in his arm, and groaned at each step. By the time he was at the top of the tower, he was sweating from pain and his wound had started to bleed again. Dylan gritted his teeth together and pulled the glass shard from his arm. He ripped a part of his shirt and tied it around the wound.  
  
Now, after that was done, he finally had a good view of the place. The street they had gone on seemed to be the only man- made one around: all others were alcoves between the rocky cliffs. He looked to the right and saw a radio mast standing up in the middle of a plaza of some kind. It must have been a place for off-duty personnel to hang around at.  
  
"Sir! The radio mast's just behind those two buildings! You can drive on, sir, I'll catch up with you!" he called down.  
  
"Okay, Henderson. We just got a call from Dam Team. Patrol Team's osprey will be coming in a few minutes, so hurry!" Manners called back up.  
  
Dylan turned to towards the ladder again, but stopped when he heard the roaring sound of the dropship. He looked back and saw the maniacal thing coming straight at him. "Dammit, get off my case!" he called and started emptying his clip into it. The ship had been damaged from the earlier fire, and now, after taking hits from Dylan's gun, started spinning at the water tower.  
  
"Shit!" Dylan yelled as the ship struck into the tower, ripping open the roof. Dylan fell into the water through the hole in the roof.. He swam up and inhaled air, only to find he wasn't alone in the water. A lone surviving alien slave had flown out of the ship and plummeted into the water with him. It started to load an electric attack.  
  
"No! You'll fry both of us!" Dylan yelled but the alien either didn't understand what he said or didn't know water conducts electricity. They both shook in the water as the electric current passed along. The shock had hurt both of them, yet they were both still alive. Still shaking, Dylan started to madly swim for the twisted ladder protruding from the gap. The alien apparently hadn't understood that he had been the cause of the earlier shock, and started angrily loading another shock attack. Dylan could never make it to the hole before the next attack. They would both fry alive if the alien had another chance to fire it's electricity build- up. Then Dylan heard a whistling noise, and a huge explosion behind him sent a miniature tidal wave.  
  
He looked up to see, like a guardian angel come to save him, Patrol Team's osprey flying above the water tower. The plane had come by, seen what was happening, and fired a mortar into the tower. The pilot waved at Dylan. He waved back and started climbing down the ladder. In a minute he was at the bottom of the tower and started walking to the radio mast.  
  
Greshwald came up to Dylan as soon as he came in view of the two Jeeps. They were parked around the radio mast. The soldiers were looking up as the osprey spun in the sky, coming lower with each turn. "Dylan, what took you so long?" Greshwald asked.  
  
"I had a run-in with that flying ray-thing. Nothing serious," he shrugged, although he knew that electric jolt had taken most of his juices out of him.  
  
"Well thank god you're alive. We've made it, Dylan! We got enough men and ammo to finally take on that alien scum as soon as we board the osprey!" Greshwald cheered. As if on cue, a rope lowered from the osprey and a marine rappelled down on it. He waved at the other marines as the osprey glided around the open field, lowering all the time.  
  
Unfortunately for the marines, the aliens hadn't forgotten them yet. All the marines, including the rappelling Patrol Team marine, turned to look as the ominous mound of sand started to rise in the north side of the courtyard. The tentacle seemed to burst out in slow motion from the sand and hollered into the sky.  
  
"When will you leave us alone, dammit?!" Manners screamed at the tentacle.  
  
"Sir..." a marine came and swallowed nervously, "...we have a problem."  
  
"I can see that, stupid," Manners said pointing at the tentacle.  
  
"N... no sir, not that. We have a bigger problem," the marine said pointing behind him. In horror, the marines turned to look behind themselves, and saw two more mounds of sand appearing. The whole ground seemed to shake and tumble as if in an earthquake as another pair of equally horrid tentacles appeared from the ground.  
  
"Lord, no..." Manners' words barely came as a whisper as he looked up at the three tentacles.  
  
"Hey Greshwald, all that time in boot camp's really gonna pay off, cause this is gonna be one hell of an obstacle course," Dylan whispered as the marines started to hopelessly fire in all directions.  
  
The first tentacle came down screaming at Dylan as he was still talking. "Greshwald, watch out!" he screamed pushing his friend out of the tentacles way and rolling forward. The tentacle barely missed him, the top of the claw only a few feet above his back. As soon as it rose again, Dylan jumped up and tried to open fire. However, in horror he noticed he had used his last clip on the dropship. He now pulled out one of the pistols from the security guards ,though he doubted it would be of any use against the tentacles.  
  
He looked around. The tentacles had already picked out three marines. Only two of the tentacles were actually fighting the marines: the third struck across the air, aiming at the osprey which was flying around the courtyard firing mortars at the tentacles.  
  
Dylan only had a second to watch, as the other tentacle came at him. He leaped backwards, barely dodging the claw which only fell two feet away from his feet. He didn't have time to slow his beating heart, as the tentacle started to rise again.  
  
"Oh, no you don't!" he yelled, leaping on to the tentacle. He didn't know why he did it: he just hoped it would distract the horrid alien. He stared in shock as he rose above the field, even above the osprey. The tentacle started to wildly swing from side to side, clearly annoyed by the little form hanging on it. Dylan slowly crawled forward, until he came to a knob the size of a beach ball on the black claw. The know was covered with red dots, and just seemed to point out of the claw. Dylan pulled his pistol and fired at the bump. He seemed to have struck it's weak point, as the tentacle gave it's most horrifying wail so far, and swung forwards. The velocity made Dylan loose his grip, and he flew forward... barely able to grab onto the rope hanging from the osprey passing by.  
  
"Hey," Dylan called climbing down the rope and passing the rappelling marine, "I need to borrow your rifle for a sec."  
  
"Umm... ok," the marine hesitated and handed Dylan his M4.  
  
"Thanks!" he called and started to take aim at the tentacle he had been hanging on a second ago. He let loose a stream of bullets, which struck their target: the knob on the tentacle. The bump burst open, sending a brain fluid all over the battlefield, and moaning painfully, the tentacle collapsed onto the ground.  
  
"YES!" Dylan yelled. He had guessed right: the bump on the tentacle had stored the monster's brain. Losing that knob was fatal for the alien. "Climb up and tell your gunner to fire the mortars at the tentacles' weak point. You saw where I fired, right?" he asked, and the marine nodded. He started to climb up the rope, will Dylan swung onto the radio mast. Sure, he could have stayed in the osprey, but his team mates and buddies were down there, fighting a hopeless war. He climbed down the ladder on the mast and joined Greshwald's side. Thankfully, Dylan's friend had been able to evade the tentacle's for the duration of the time.  
  
"Don't worry Greshwald, we're going to get outta here," Dylan said, and as he still spoke, a mortar flew at a tentacle's head, blowing it's brains out. The tentacle came down with a thud onto the ground.  
  
"All right men, gather together!" Manners called to the survivors, and they ran together. They retreated away from the final tentacle so Patrol Team could finish it off. A mortar went at the tentacle, but it missed it's target, blowing into the tentacle's claw. It screamed in rage, and mad with anger, struck down.  
  
"Huh?" Manners wandered as the ground shook violently. The tentacle's strike had created a crack in the ground, which moved in alarming speed at the marines. The sand started to cave in, and the ground collapsed. The marines toppled underground, and soon the ground caved in, covering the pit.  
  
The marines, dazed, found themselves in the dark. Their entryway had been closed off.  
  
"Damn it all to Hell!" sergeant Brigson of Patrol Team slammed his fist on the osprey's control panels. "They're stuck underground!"  
  
"Sir," one of the Patrol Team members said, "we've scanned the area. They've fallen into the rail system. That area's under Rail Team control. We can contact Rail Team to keep an eye out for them," he suggested.  
  
"Right," Brigson said pulling out his radio and tuning it to the right frequency. "Rail Team, this is Patrol Team, do you copy? I repeat, this is Patrol Team, do you copy?"  
  
"Rail Team here. What's up?"  
  
"Reinforcements for Dam Team have been able to find their way in there. Assist them to get out of there, or you'll have to answer to Dam Team."  
  
"Yes sir, all our supplies are open for their usage," Rail Team said closing the connection.  
  
"We've done all we can, now let's continue patrolling the area," Brigson directed the pilot. He lowered his head down: now he would have to explain the situation to major Hickory of Dam Team, and the idea didn't comfort him.  
  
(Yep, that was Chapter 2. Personally I think Chapter 1 was better, but hey, people have their own tastes. Chapter 3 might take a while longer to appear, since I haven't thought of everything that should happen in it, but rest assured, Dylan Henderson's tale will continue! (Well, at least until I introduce some idea which spawns negative feedback, ruining the whole story. Ah well, shit happens.) 


	4. On A Rail, Marine Style

(Sorry it took so long for chapter 3 to be completed, but I took a break from writing during Easter. Since most of your reviews were compliments, I'm going to take this time to answer Syntheticsoul's review.  
  
First of all, THANK YOU. I've been waiting for a long time to get a good review which goes to show how sucky my story is (they just won't believe it in school) and how to improve my writing. Now, I realize I made a boo-boo when I had them fly in an Apache, but I already said before I wanted to depict the shortage of ospreys they have (If you play Half-Life Decay, in the 4th mission, you can see that when the military arrives, there is not one single osprey among them). And I didn't technically steal the opening from Opposing Force, since I haven't ever played the mods. As for Dylan and his brother, well, I've added a bit more insight in their relationship into this chapter, so I hope it suits you. Though I think it's a matter of which you like more: story-oriented or character oriented stories. But still, I hope this solves some of my problems.  
  
Well, anyway, I hope you enjoy chapter 3. I'm sorry it's so long, but I hope you don't mind.)  
  
Chapter 3: On A Rail, Marine Style  
  
Dylan groaned and shook as he laid on the ground. He was yet again living that horrid night, the night his brother had been killed.  
  
His brother had chased him worriedly into a closet, telling Dylan to hide there. He then closed the door, but Dylan quickly opened the door slightly so he could watch what was going to happen.  
  
"Henderson!" a voice boomed and the door was kicked open. A man in his early fifties stepped in with a switchblade. "You double-crosser! That wasn't cocaine, that was sugar powder!"  
  
Dylan's brother stepped backwards. "Rob, I tried to tell you, I was out of cocaine, the latest shipment had been-"  
  
"Shut up Henderson! I need my drugs!" Rob screamed and lunged at Dylan's brother. The two struggled for a brief moment, but then Dylan watched in horror as his brother fell back. Blood gushed out of his chest, and his face shortly turned pale. Rob turned away and started walking out.  
  
"I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!!!" Dylan screamed snapping out of his dream and firing his pistol. He breathed heavily and realized it was just a dream. Just a dream, he repeated in his thoughts, just a dream.  
  
Anger changed into panic as he realized where he was. Everything was dark and he could only slightly move. He turned his head around and saw light leaking from the holes that he had fired when waking from his dream. It all came to him. Dylan remembered the osprey, the tentacle, the ground splitting under him, and the darkness. He realized he was buried under the cement and sand that had caved in on top of them.  
  
"Help! HELP!" he screamed under the rubble. Would he be trapped for eternity in here? Would this be his grave?  
  
"Dylan? Oh my god! Dylan's alive, sir, Dylan's alive!" a familiar voice came from somewhere. The sand and rubble on top of Dylan started to move, and a huge slab of rock was pried over him. Dylan looked up to see Greshwald and some of the marines.  
  
"So it was you who fired those bullets a second ago," Greshwald laughed. "Jesus, we thought you were killed in the collapse!"  
  
"Nah, I was just buried alive," Dylan grinned climbing out of the rubble and wiping the dust from his sleeve. "So, what's the situation?"  
  
"We've lost a heck-load of men," another marine came forward, "and we're stuck INSIDE Black Mesa."  
  
"Inside?!" Dylan exclaimed. "Our job wasn't ever to go in here!" he had been briefed of the compound before they had left for it. He had listened worried as lieutenant Manners had described the multileveled corridors, office complexes, research labs, and sewage pipes. Dylan had never been scared of tight places, but to be in a maze under tons of rock and sand... he couldn't imagine what a claustrophobic would feel like in the alien- infested research facility.  
  
"That's why we're looking for a way out," the marine said. "We checked out where this corridor leads. We're stuck in the rail system."  
  
Dylan remembered that description. The area was a mass of pathways of rails, winding around like a labyrinth in some points. "Wasn't a team sent here some time?" he asked.  
  
"Rail Team," Greshwald said, "one of the largest teams we got. We were about to head off along the rails to find Rail Team, when Manners decided we should check if there were any survivors in the rubble."  
  
"Where is Manners right now?" Dylan asked. He noticed the lieutenant wasn't among the few marines here.  
  
"He went with two others to scout the nearby area while we digged for survivors. We're supposed to go meet up with him once we're done checking things out here."  
  
"Well, we might as well go then," Dylan sighed. "I don't think anyone else survived being buried under that rock." The small corridor behind them was now sealed of by a pile of asphalt, rock and sand. "I survived cause that sand softened the blow of that huge rock slab, but it doesn't look like others were as lucky."  
  
So the small group of marines started to head down the corridor. Dylan noticed that there were only six of them in all, and that meant that the tentacles had picked out a load of their men. They continued down the path, meeting no resistance. Just when they thought they were out of danger, the heard a strange noise and turned to see a green flash. Out of thin air, an alien slave appeared, and immediately started loading it's shock attack. The marines started firing at it, and did kill it soon, but another of the noise came, and they turned to see six more slaves appear.  
  
"Oh come on!" Dylan thought at the sudden amount of enemies. This was ridiculous: their enemies were spawning out of thin air! Since he had left his M4 with grenade launcher outside, Dylan took a normal grenade from his belt and pulled the pin. He threw the grenade among the slaves, who fired their electrical attacks. The marines ducked, but some were too slow and were severely electrocuted. And worse still, the grenade didn't explode when it struck the slave, but bounced harmlessly to the side and then detonated. With a twist of fate, however, the explosion burst open a gas pipe, which lit on fire, spewing fiery death all over the slaves. They all doubled in pain and burned away into blackened piles of burned flesh. The smell of smoldering meat made the marines sick, and they slowly rose.  
  
"What the Hell was that?" a marine asked. "They just came outta nowhere!"  
  
"This is gotta be one big joke," another one muttered partly to himself. "How can we win if they keep coming from thin air?"  
  
"Oh, please," Dylan shook his head, "they can't keep coming forever. It's a matter of being able to keep fighting long enough."  
  
The marines, now moderately wounded, started to continue down the path. They walked around the open gas pipe, and continued with little resistance. The path had a few headcrabs, but the marines easily dispatched them. After a short walk, they came to a large corridor. Two of their marines were sitting here. A rail lined with caution lines travelled along the hallway and behind a corner. Distant gunfire was continuously heard.  
  
"Hey, you made it," one of the two marines said. "Manners is coming soon, he's over behind that corner. We found a lone rail car here. If we squeeze in tight into it, we can all travel on the thing."  
  
Happy that they found friendly personnel, the marines sat down on the side, wary of the rail track going in the middle. The thing was electrified when used, and delivered a nasty shock when stepped on.  
  
They didn't have to wait long when they heard a humming sound and Manners came from behind one of the corners at high speed on a rail car. He stopped by the marines and motioned them to come.  
  
"Hurry up fellas, we got company!" he called, and a pack of aliens they haven't met before came from behind the corner. These ones were a lot like headcrabs, small in size and a bit the same shape, but they were obviously built for running. The yellow things dashed at them, and Dylan saw a massive amount of eyes in their faces. In fact, they didn't have faces; their heads were completely dominated by hundreds if not thousands of eyes. The things emitted chirping noises, and while they seemed harmless, the marines quickly climbed on and started driving away.  
  
"Good to see you're alive, Henderson," Manners said, "we need all the men we can get. We're probably not going to be much of use for Dam Team anymore with our small amount of men, but orders are orders." Dylan only partly listened, as he balanced on the side of the rail car. Even though the soldiers held their backpacks above their heads, they were still tightly crammed on the car, and Dylan had to concentrate not to tip off the vehicle.  
  
"Heh, we're gaining distance from 'em," Greshwald laughed as the multi- eyed aliens slowed down to a halt. The gunfire was now sounding louder than before, and they could hear the occasional scream. Sometimes it was human, sometimes alien.  
  
"SHIT!" Manners suddenly yelled. Around the corner came another cart with a scientist and a guard in it at full speed. Behind them came marines running and firing at them.  
  
"Dammit!" the new marines yelled. "They broke through!"  
  
"Brace yourselves!" Manners called, "we're gonna crash together!" At this point the marines saw the approaching cart was on the same track, and they also noticed something equally horrible: not only did the car have a scientist and a guard, but also a large box marked 'explosives' that they had carried on it.  
  
"Die, you military bastards!" the guard called, and he and the scientist jumped off the car. The guard opened fire on the car as it crashed with the marines' own, and the explosives blew up.  
  
At first Dylan saw only a flash. A deafening roar filled every nook and cranny of his ear. Then he saw the whole car tilting backwards and his brothers-in-arms flying in all direction. The last thing he saw was the roof and then darkness for the second time this day.  
--------------  
  
Meanwhile, a man was sitting in a local restaurant in Santa Fe, the capital of New Mexico. The locals stopped to stare at the man, who replied by smiling back. Then the locals continued walking, thinking he was only a tourist visiting their splendid city. The man seemed foreign: not Canadian- or-Mexican foreign, but behind-the-Atlantic foreign. He ordered a dish of tex-mex food and started eating. He paid for the food, but then approached the restaurant owner.  
  
"Excuse me, but might I visit your storage room? I'd like to do it privately, and I hope you accept my gratitude for letting me do so," he grinned handing a large sum of money to the manager. He grinned back and opened the storage room. The man went inside, sat onto a chair, and pulled out his mobile phone.  
  
The phone rang for a second, then answered. "Ah, you finally called. What is the situation?" an accented voice came.  
  
"I've listened to that Black Mesa with my radio. I eavesdropped on a transmission and heard military voices. It's finally happened, boss. The 'Cossack resonance' has struck," the man answered.  
  
"That's 'cascade resonance'. Good, the time has come to take action. Do you have your men with you?"  
  
"Our men are scattered among the city, disguised as tourists."  
  
"You do have weapons along with you?"  
  
"We're all armed with MP40 submachine guns and Molotov Cocktails. Don't worry."  
  
"Good. A shipment of Nazi Panzer tanks will be arriving there soon. You will use those and the trucks you came with to storm Black mesa."  
  
"Sir, might I ask why we are using World War 2 weaponry?"  
  
"For one, it's the cheapest the army surplus has. For second, I have made a contract that the tanks and guns are being shipped to a war museum in California. This way it won't raise suspicion that a troupe of Panzer tanks are traveling across the desert."  
  
"How ingenious, boss! Don't worry, we'll take that place down!" Saying this, the man closed his phone and walked out. He thanked the manager and set off to gather his men. Today would be a day of victory.  
------------------  
"Ugh," Dylan stirred in his coma.  
  
"Well, what do you know? He survived the blast, even though the car fell on him," a voice in his sub-consciousness rang.  
  
"Good, that means we all survived," Manners' familiar voice appeared.  
  
"We've patched up his wounds with some medicine stolen from Black Mesa," the voice came again. "Wonderful stuff they make here. We really should save the recipe for it and take it with us."  
  
"Another time," an unfamiliar voice came. "Right now all you've got to do is take care of our wounded, and you got a lot of work to do."  
  
"What..?" Dylan mumbled suddenly waking up. At first he only saw brightness, but as his eyes adjusted, he saw he was in a canvassed area. He was sitting on a bloody operating table, and a soldier with a red cross on his helmet stood backwards. Along with him was Manners and another person.  
  
"That was a fast recovery," the medic said surprised. "We really should look for that medicine recipe."  
  
"Later!" the other person said. "So, you're still living, eh? Thank god, Major Hickory would kill me for losing Dam Team members," he chuckled.  
  
"What happened? Where are we?" Dylan questioned Manners.  
  
"Remember the security guard and the scientist with the explosives?" Manners asked. "Turns out they were part of a bunch of resisting fools who got the idea to go all Rambo. Rail Team killed them quickly, but they blew our members all over the track. The car toppled on top of you, so we were naturally mostly worried of you."  
  
"Welcome to Rail Team HQ," the other soldier said. "I'm Staff Sergeant Beckinghill, I've been given task of supervising our medics, or rather medic. The others got killed when a bunch of bullsquids and alien slaves broke through the sentries."  
  
"They broke through? How's that possible? Surely Rail Team's powerful enough to keep out all attackers," Dylan stated.  
  
"Well, those damn aliens... yikes!" he leapt backwards as the canvas burst open and a bullsquid came through. A bunch of soldiers ran in and fired at the bullsquid before it had a chance to do any damage. "Don't worry sir, everything's under control!" the soldiers yelled, running back out as a green flash appeared in front of the hole and another bullsquid appeared.  
  
"Damn!" Beckinghill cursed. "That's what I mean! Those blasted freaks come outta nowhere and tear through our defense lines!"  
  
"Well, if you're all right, Henderson, then let's move out. We still gotta get to the dam," Manners said walking outside. Dylan stood up and ran after him. Staff Sergeant Beckinghill and the medic stayed as a few marines walked in with various wounds.  
  
"Sir, you're kidding!" Dylan called. "Our troops have fallen to half their original amount! We'll be picked alive by just about everything! Including those Black Mesa guards!"  
  
"Don't worry Henderson, we won't be worrying about that soon," Manners grinned, and Dylan now saw Greshwald and the others hanging around behind a small sandbag bunker in the middle of the room. The huge chamber seemed to be a garage for the rail carts, as there were tens of small tracks leading to a center track. The air was full of gunfire and alien voices, and marines were everywhere, either dealing with appearing aliens, or resting while the others were fighting.  
  
"Heh, Dylan, that's already twice you've been knocked out," Greshwald laughed with his easy-going attitude.  
  
"Hey Greshwald, how's it going?" Dylan asked. The attitude was a lot less tense now that they were in a (slightly) safe place.  
  
"Great! Not only did those medics with their Black Mesa stuff cure the pain from that rail cart trip, they also got rid of all the other damage I've got today!"  
  
"Cut with the chatter, we're moving out!" Manners called, and waved at one of the sergeants of Rail Team. He hollered at a small group of marines, and they all came over.  
  
"Sir!" the sergeant saluted. "The situation here in the rail system is pretty much in control, so the commanders have assigned my group to be part of Dam Team."  
  
"Yes, yes, I know," Manners said to the sergeant, who put his hand down. "Well men, here's our reinforcements. I told you we wouldn't have to worry about our loss of troops. Plus, we get free big guns along with them!"  
  
At this point, Dylan saw that the ex-Rail Team members weren't sporting an M4 Carbine: they were armed with M-249 SAW machine guns. Yes, it would certainly be a LOT easier now to get to Dam Team.  
  
"Now, let's go. First we reload our weapons, then we head on into the rails," Manners said and walked over to a box. He opened the lid and handed ten clips of ammo for everyone. Dylan was relieved to be able to have a new rifle instead of the pathetic pistol he had.  
  
After everyone was stocked up, the now full Dam Team reinforcements walked over to one of the pathways. The corridor was blocked with a sandbag wall, and lots of gunfire was heard from behind it. A dozen marines were standing behind the sandbag, around a rope ladder leading to the top of the wall. Another rolled up rope ladder was on the other side of the wall.  
  
"Drop the ladder! We're running low on ammo!" a call came from behind the sandbag wall, and a marine climbed quickly up and dropped the other rolled up ladder. Soon six marines raced from the other side and down to the marines' side, followed by electric beams.  
  
"We were gaining the upper hand, when a fresh amount of alien slaves showed up," one of the marines said.  
  
"Going out?" the marines asked Manners' team. "Wait a sec, we'll clear out the behind." Three marines then pulled the pin off grenades and threw them behind the sandbags. A huge explosion followed, and then silence.  
  
"Here's your chance to move, we'll provide cover fire," the marines said, and Manners started climbing the rope ladder. The other Dam Team members climbed to the other side, and Dylan saw they were in another rail system.  
  
"Ok, we're heading for the office complex. There we'll go topside and hitch a ride to the dam. This place is crawling with aliens and Black Mesa personnel, so let's move!" Manners called and started running down the hallway. Dylan and the others started following, just as a pack of bullsquids appeared behind them. They didn't stop to fight, as a bunch of Rail Team marines fired from behind the wall. The marines dashed behind the corner and continued running. They saw some marines to the right fighting a bunch of Black mesa security guards, but they didn't have time to stop and help. They met a lot of resistance on the way, ranging from bullsquids and slaves to the occasional headcrab, but they didn't even then stop to fight.  
  
Diving behind a corner, the marines came to a long stretch of track. The sound of the pursuing creatures came closer. They wouldn't be able to evade behind a corner here. "We fight," Manners whispered turning around. As soon as the first bullsquid appeared, Manners fired a grenade around the corner, blowing a great deal of aliens. Dylan opened fire, as did the others, and they started to back up as more aliens came from behind the corner. The machine guns were really shredding the creatures to pieces, much more effectively than the rifles, but they had to give in, as the mass of enemies was too much.  
  
Most marines took acid and electric damage as they raced behind the corner, but now things became easier: although it was another long stretch, this time there was a small group of marines at the end, and one of them was manning a huge missile launcher. "Get down!" he called, and Dylan leaped flat to the ground. He heard the electric loading of the slaves' shock attack, but then he saw a bright flash, and a deafening roar filled the air as a rocket flew over the lying marines' backs, colliding among the aliens. What had a moment ago been a huge armada of foes was now nothing more than chunks of meat.  
  
The marines walked over to the missile launcher, and Manners signaled a break. Dylan slouched down, his adrenaline wasted. Manners was discussing with the Rail Team troops, and the others were just sitting on the ground. Dylan saw one of the old Rail Team members walk over to a vending machine to the side. He pressed a button, then banged on the machine as no can of soft drink came down.  
  
"Here, let me help," Dylan said walking over to the machine. He looked at the machine for a second, then landed a sharp kick on the thing, breaking open the cover. He stuck his hand in and pulled out a can of Vanilla Coke, which he handed to the marine.  
  
"I'd rather take the sugarless, but thanks anyway," the marine laughed and took a big drink. "Adam Dykowski, nice to meet you."  
  
"Dylan Henderson, glad to be of help," Dylan smiled back. "So, what do you think of thsi mission so far?"  
  
"It's bogus. This is not what I was expecting out of the army. I wanted to kill off some ragheads, not something with a claw as big as my cell phone."  
  
"Yeah, I was just hoping for training myself, not war," Dylan looked away, the memory of his brother coming back.  
  
"Training?" Adam asked in wonder. "You didn't want to fight anyone?"  
  
"I don't like fighting," Dylan now said, feeling uneasy.  
  
"What?! Then why'd you join the army?"  
  
"I'd... rather not talk about it."  
  
"Oh, come on! Tell me! Here, have a drink, it's on me," Adam laughed sarcastically, pulling out a can.  
  
"Ok, I'll tell you," Dylan sighed. He thought he could trust Adam. " I used to live in a bad region. My family was poor, and everyone hoped I'd get to college. My brother stole some cocaine once and started dealing it to get me enough money to get to college. But one day, the newest shipment didn't come in, and a client called Robert Berfusco wanted some of the stuff. The guy was a madman. My brother was afraid Rob would kill him, so he gave him some sugar powder. Well, Rob found out about the trick later and came back. He stabbed my brother."  
  
"Ouch," Adam said, "sorry I asked you."  
  
"Nah, it's okay, might as well continue now that I've started," Dylan smiled. "I was so shocked after that. I was barely a teen at the time, and my brother had worked hard for the money. He did all he could for me, and then got killed. I hated fighting after that, but I figured that the only way I'd be prepared if a moment like that came would be by learning to fight and handle weapons. So I joined the army in hopes of gaining experience. Looks like I'm just going to get myself killed here."  
  
"Don't worry pal, you don't need to care about your past, you've got friends here to trust on," Adam cheered Dylan up and patted him on the back. Dylan already started to like Adam. He really seemed like a person to trust your worries with. Although the only friends he trusted were Greshwald and now Adam.  
  
"All right men," Manners called, "I need someone to go scout the pathway down there to see if it's safe to go on. Any volunteers?"  
  
"I'll go," Dylan said standing up. He needed to get his brother away from his mind.  
  
"I'll go too," Greshwald said. "We'll have better luck of surviving if something's over there if there's two of us, right, Dylan?"  
  
"I can go too," Adam lifted his hand. "I haven't got anything better to do," he said. "Plus, I can make up for having you tell your story," he whispered to Dylan.  
  
"Ok then, get moving, we haven't got time to spare!" Manners ordered, and the three of them started hiking down the corridor. Here he was, Dylan thought, with the only people he really trusted among the marines.  
  
"So," Dylan asked, "did you have any special reason to join the army, Adam?"  
  
"Nah, not really," Adam answered as they came around the corner. "I happened to watch an old war movie and saw one of those old "Uncle Sam Needs You" posters. It made my heart stir, so I joined. Pretty dumb, huh?"  
  
"I just came cause my parents wanted me to," Greshwald said. "I'd rather have been a civilian at first, but then I had such a cool time in boot camp that I changed my mind. Now I'm not so sure anymore."  
  
"Listen!" Dylan suddenly called, and the three stopped, now serious. A small humming noise was coming from the end of the corridor, which grew louder all the time. Almost immediately gunfire joined the cacophony, and the three started to race to the end of the corridor. It was a rail car elevator, and one was coming up. It was HIM.  
  
Dylan's eyes widened as the elevator came up. He was only able to say one word, he was so surprised. "Freeman."  
  
There he was, on the elevator, his HEV suit glistening like a suit of armor. Although he was armed with an M4 instead of the SPAS-12 in the mission briefing, it couldn't have been anyone else but Gordon Freeman, Dam Team's third objective.  
  
"You! You're gonna die!" Greshwald called and started firing, at the car, but fell backwards. Blood flew all over from his body as he collapsed against the wall. His chest was full of holes from Freeman's gun, and his eyes fell backwards. NO, Dylan thought.  
  
"YOU!" Dylan screamed as the car passed them. His mind filled with rage, the want to kill the bastard who had shot or even killed his friend encompassing him. He leaped onto the car, and dropped his gun to the side. "You think you're so tough, killing with your big guns?! Put down your gun, and let's fight for real. Then we'll see who really kicks ass!"  
  
To Dylan's surprise, Gordon dropped his own gun onto the cart. "Well, that's a surprise. You're the first marine with enough guts to actually fight fair." Saying this, both men lifted their dukes.  
  
Adam seemed to understand that Dylan wanted to fight alone, and stopped to watch as the cart slowly moved forwards, carrying the fighters with them. The two eyed each other, then Dylan did the first attack, aiming a punch at Freeman's side. Gordon blocked the hit, but he didn't seem to be used to fighting, and opened his defense on his other flank. Dylan did a roundhouse kick into Gordon's side, sending the man onto his knees. Freeman now head butted Dylan into his stomach, sending the air out of him. As Dylan squeezed his aching stomach, Gordon tried another head rush, but this time Dylan grabbed his head. Holding Freeman's head in place, Dylan kneed his face, then lifted him up.  
  
"You killed my friend, so now you're gonna taste the pain," Dylan hissed between his teeth. That head butt had hurt. He tightened his hands around Gordon's neck, trying to strangle him. Suddenly, Dylan felt a sharp pain, and crouched down. He saw through his eyes, which started to fill with tears, that Gordon had landed a kick right in Dylan's groin. Freeman executed another kick, causing Dylan to fall off the cart. He saw as the cart continued past Dam Team. The missile turret fired a few shots, but judging from the curses Dylan could hear Manners throw, Freeman had escaped.  
  
"Dylan, you ok?" Adam's voice came, but Dylan, still clutching his crotch in pain, couldn't and didn't want to answer. His friend was probably killed, and he wasn't able to pay back. That hurt him more than the kick to the groin.  
  
(There. Chapter 3. I'm sorry it's so long, but the look into Dylan's past takes a little space. I hope this is better than before, Syntheticsoul, and I thank you one more time for your helpful review. Like this chapter, Chapter 4 might take a while longer again, since I still need to plan for it. Stay tuned!) 


	5. Tertiary Objectives Completed

(Wow, what do you know? I got chapter 4 done already. That's a record! Well, except for the prologue, I got that done in one day. Before continuing, I'll state that I'm not sure if that hive arm alien is officially named alien grunt or alien drone, but drone sounds cooler, so I'm using it. Well, I guess it's time to answer your nice reviews!  
  
Jason Storm, Weasel, and Jodi: Good that you liked it!  
  
Blizrun: Thanks man, I've corrected my errors. Goes to show PlanetHalflife can't be trusted on the weapons department!  
  
Hao: Don't worry, Dylan and Gordon will have a rematch. I mean, that was just way too short to be the only fight they have!  
  
Oh, and Blizrun, I have an event here which ties in with past occurrences in your Half-Life fan-fic. Just for the fun of it, I'll let you try to guess what it is. If you can't guess it, mention it in your review. Yeah, and if you don't want me to use it, mention that too, I'll delete it then.  
  
Ah well, let's get to business. Here's chapter 4!)  
  
Chapter 4: "Tertiary Objectives Completed"  
  
"C'mon, how can it take so long?"  
  
Dylan only slightly caught Manners' words as he was sitting on the side, his head laying against his arms. Greshwald was still alive, but his pulse was incredibly low. If they didn't get out of that hellhole, Greshwald wouldn't make it. Dylan didn't care about what was going on, he was only thinking of how his buddy was laying on the ground, filled with bullets.  
  
"Don't be sorry Dylan, you didn't do anything," he heard and slightly looked to the side to see Adam coming up.  
  
"That's the problem," Dylan answered looking away. "I could have stopped him. But no, I stared in wonder at Freeman."  
  
"I guess I really can't cheer you up, huh?" Adam remarked slouching down next to him.  
  
"So, what's Manners doing anyway? I wasn't listening," Dylan asked staring up. Manners was impatiently waiting as the Rail Team sergeant was working a control panel in the wall.  
  
"We're going to go around the rocket testing facility," Adam explained. "Rail Team had found a sealed pathway looping around the facility which comes right next to the silo door in the office complex."  
  
"A-ha!" The Rail Team sergeant piped. "Here we go! The security code's 9-6- 7!" He then pressed the buttons and the wall started lurching open, revealing another railway with four parked carts.  
  
"It took you that long to remember a code like that?" Manners asked, irritated. "Oh well," he sighed and waved to the others. "Let's move, our time is short. We'll have to carry private Greshwald on one of the cars. Who wants to watch over him?"  
  
"Me," Dylan said slowly standing up. "I have to take care of him, I'm the reason he's like that."  
  
"I'll join him," Adam said. "I'll keep watch on the path while you take care of Greshwald, ok?"  
  
"Enough chatter, move!" Manners called leaping onto the front cart. The others climbed on and started moving down the path. Dylan and Adam carried Greshwald onto the last cart. Greshwald groaned, and Dylan's face became overwhelmed with worry. They jerked forwards while Dylan was cleaning up the bullet wounds. He looked up as he heard a teleporting voice and saw that more of those multi-eyed creatures Rail Team called 'houndseyes' appeared. The carts started to drive faster as they rolled away from the chasing aliens.  
  
"FIRE!" Manners screamed to the others as he piloted the cart. The air filled with bullets as they picked out the houndseyes. A soldier screamed as he found himself hoisted into the air. "Shit! Barnacles!" Manners yelled as they continued driving. The last houndseye fell onto the ground and the marines now looked up to watch out for the barnacles.  
  
The drive was uneventful after that. The occasional barnacle was the only enemy they saw. The whole trip Dylan sat gloomily, cleaning up Greshwald's wounds. If only he had stopped him...  
  
Soon they came to another wall with a security panel. "Wait, I remember this code," the sergeant said, and Manners sighed with relief. The carts came to a halt as the sergeant jumped off. He walked to the panel and started typing. "It was... 6-4-4!" The wall slid open to reveal a pathway.  
  
"So, we're here, the office... yikes!" Manners yelled and jumped backwards as soon as he had stepped out of the doorway. The ground in front of him filled with bullet holes. "Shotgun shells!" Manners exclaimed and the soldiers started running for the door.  
  
Dylan saw as they came out that to their left was a guard's office, except the door was open and a scientist with a SPAS-12 was standing in the doorway. "Stay back, you!" he called and fired another shell. Dylan retreated backwards. A soldier fell on the ground, his stomach ripped open.  
  
"Where the Hell did that scientist get a shotgun?!" Manners cursed, but Dylan could already guess why. Freeman had been here.  
  
"We're gonna have to bring out the big guns, sir," a marine said pulling the pin off a grenade. He threw it behind the corner. Dylan heard a short scream, which was silenced by an explosion. They peered behind, but Dylan stepped backwards in disgust. The whole guard's room was covered with blood and body parts. The grenade must have landed right in the scientist's hands.  
  
The marines now came out and studied the room. Manners silently cursed. There were only three ways out: one was to the rocket testing facility which they had detoured, the other was a broken elevator, and the one path that they had wanted to use was closed by an emergency fire door. Dylan and Adam carried Greshwald and left him in the guard pen. The room was unimportant. There were a few TV screens showing what a security camera saw and a large button used to open the silo door. Just as they had lost hope and the marines slumped onto the ground, they heard human voices.  
  
"Damn, another fire door," a muffled voice came from the blocked pathway. The marines turned to stare at the path. Adam, in surprise, looked at one of the security cameras and saw that there were marines behind the fire door. "Bring the C4," one of the marines ordered, and another came up to the door, sticking plastic explosives onto the door.  
  
"C4's set, sir!" the marine said, and they all backed away. "Get outta there!" Adam called to the marines in the hallway. "They're gonna blast the door on top of ya!" Manners leaped up and ran to the other side, the soldiers right behind them. A huge explosion filled the corridor and the fire door blasted forwards. It fell right in front of the marines. Through the door came more marines, and both sides stopped to stare in wonder.  
  
"Who the Hell are you?" the new marines' leader asked.  
  
"Lieutenant Manners and the reinforcements for Dam Team, and you?"  
  
"Sergeant Brigson of Patrol Team, sir," Brigson saluted. "Hey, are you those guys who we were supposed to pick up?"  
  
"That's right, Brigson. What's Patrol Team doing down here?"  
  
"Well, after patrolling Black Mesa perimeters, we were called to assist Office Team in breaching the office complex." He then turned and started walking into the way he came from. "Follow me sir, our osprey is waiting outside. We can transport you to the dam." And I won't have to report to Major Hickory on the near loss of his reinforcements, Brigson thought in the back of his mind.  
  
"Wait, sir," Dylan called walking out. "We have a severely wounded man, and we need help to carry him." He and Adam were both tiring from carrying around Greshwald.  
  
"Right. You three!" Brigson pointed at three of his men. "Go help them!"  
  
So the joined group of Patrol Team and Dam Team set off through the area. Dylan observed that there were soldiers in every room, their finger ready on the trigger. The reason came apparent soon enough as a green flash appeared in one of the rooms and a pack of alien slaves teleported into the room. A fire fight erupted, during which Manners and Brigson's teams continued as the Office Team soldiers covered their backs.  
  
Dylan finally started to understand the hopelessness of the situation. No place was completely secure: the aliens could appear anywhere. And how many of them were there? Thousands? Tens of thousands? MILLIONS? How could they ever win?  
  
"Well, here we are, the elevator," Brigson pointed. Dam Team was thankful for this: they were so close to getting to the dam.  
  
"Aw DAMN!" Manners yelled as they had all climbed in. The room started to flood with bullsquids and alien slaves. The marines in the room started to madly fire as the elevator climbed upwards. "Don't worry, sir," Brigson said surprisingly calmly, "we can handle them easily."  
  
But they all started to doubt as they were greeted topside by the rood crashing from a stray mortar shell. They ran outisde from the small house and saw that soldiers were running all over the place, firing at dozens of slaves. The osprey was not on the ground like Brigson had foretold, but was flying around, providing mortar fire on the slaves. Dam and Patrol Team immediately joined the fire fight, which slowly started to turn the tide towards their favor. The soldiers hid behind crates, firing at the slaves, and dodging down as the aliens' shock loads were near completion.  
  
"Dammit, get the Hell down here!" sergeant Brigson screamed to the osprey through his radio, and the copter started to lower.  
  
Dylan flew backwards as a lightning hit him square in the stomach. His suit protected him slightly, but the shock knocked the air out of him. He saw Adam appear and fire the slave that had shot him. "You ok?" he asked.  
  
"Yeah," Dylan grinned climbing up, "looks like I'm taking beatings from every direction today... oh damn, duck!" he screamed pushing Adam down as another lightning came. The osprey fired one final mortar shell, blowing the aliens away. Only one single alien was standing, all of its half a dozen eyes widened with terror. It started to madly scream to the sky in it's strange dialect.  
  
"What's it doing?" Adam asked.  
  
"I think it's... calling for back-up," Dylan grimly said.  
  
-------------  
  
The alien slave couldn't believe what had happened. For one moment his brethren were clearly winning despite the burning rain from the huge bird in the sky. Now, more "humans" had appeared and had mercilessly slaughtered his brothers. Now the only hope he had was to rely on his lord to offer aid.  
  
"O lord Nihilanth, who art ruler and creator of all Xen, your children are fighting a losing battle. Be so kind as to bestow upon us your holy soldiers, and your children will triumph through the haze of death and decay," he repeated the plead used to ask for the alien drones, the Nihilanth's prime soldiers.  
  
"I bestow upon you my great gift, O slave, but know that as payment for this gift you will be forced to toil on for greater good, and that if my children are to still lose and you are still alive, you will be condemned to endless torture," the Nihilanth's telepathic answer rang in the slave's mind. He now felt more relieved as he saw the first drones appear.  
  
----------  
  
"What the..?" Adam asked and Dylan's eyes widened as he saw the flash of the aliens' teleport appearing in front of them. The portal in front of him was twice as large as the ones the squids and slaves came from, and Adam shook his head in disbelief at the monster they faced.  
  
The creature stood above all the marines, and was twice as wide as an average human. Two arms as thick as tree trunks protruded from the beast's armored shoulders, ending in clawed stumps. A third arm came out from the immensely muscular stomach, grasping through the air. The face of the creature looked like a gorilla had been in a car accident, it's mouth twisted by a 90 degrees angle. Eyes burning with malice peered from under it's armored helmet.  
  
The brute bellowed like a bear and swung at Adam. One swing: it was all it took to send Adam through a wooden crate. Dylan stepped backwards as this new adversary lifted it arm. The claws spread open, revealing a small hole. A sickening noise like someone had stepped on a cockroach rang through the air, and Dylan saw something twist in the air from the alien's hand and then felt a sharp pain in his leg. He looked down to see a small thorny insect trying to dig into his skin. Dylan pulled the thing back and threw it back at the alien. It whizzed across the air and landed in the alien's chest. The brute winced for a moment, then angrily fired more hornets.  
  
"We haven't got time for this!" Manners yelled running for the osprey. "You Office team guys can deal with them alone!" The other marines started to run after their lieutenant, dodging flying projectiles as more drones started to teleport into the courtyard. Dylan helped Adam up, and the two ran into the osprey, which started to rise into the sky. "Greshwald?" Dylan worriedly asked, but he sighed with relief as he saw Patrol Team's medic treating Greshwald, who was barely alive.  
  
"I have to catalogue the new alien down and send it to the officers," sergeant Brigson said and started writing a report. "Hmm... let's see, what should we call it?"  
  
"Drone, sir," Dylan suggested, "alien drone."  
  
"Ah, that has a nice sound to it," Brigson agreed. " So let's see, that's AD... mmm... this is the 7th type we've seen, so AD-7... we've seen eight of them, so AD-78... woah!" Brigson leaped to the side as he heard a slam and a needle pointed through the osprey's wall. The others leaped to the center as the walls started to fill with squirming thorns. Dylan sneaked forwards and peered out of a window. The drones were firing at the osprey, which passed over the battlefield and towards the dam.  
  
The soldiers down in the courtyard were hiding behind crates, trying to use grenades to take out their opponents, but the drones' projectiles had a mind of their own, and were able to twist around corners, plunging into the marines. Both sides seemed to be equally matched.  
  
The osprey flew over a large rocky hill and before the marines' eyes, the dam rose mightily. The osprey came from the side where the water was stored, and Dylan's hopes started to rise. The dam was barricaded from the middle with two tanks. A missile turret was placed to fire between the tanks' turrets. And behind all of these contraptions, a squad of marines were resting from the remains of a battle. Alien bodies were laying all over. An Apache helicopter passed by the osprey, the pilot waiving to the marines in the chopper. Though brutal, the sight was one of the most beautiful ones Dylan had seen. Manners seemed to agree.  
  
"Thank God, they've survived," the lieutenant said. "Tertiary objectives completed, we've reached the dam."  
  
The osprey started to lower to the marines' side of the dam, and Dam Team's reinforcements started to rappel to meet their comrades.  
  
"I believe it'd be safer for your friend to stay up here," the medic said to Dylan before he rappelled. "He'll be safe from enemies up here and I can probably save his life, too."  
  
"You do that, Doc," Dylan said, and his gloominess started to fade. "Come drop him by if you happen to fly by here." Then he grabbed the rope and lowered onto the dam. The osprey turned away and started flying back where it came from after Dylan landed.  
  
Upon landing on the dam, Dylan searched for Adam and met up with him. "Whew, we finally made it."  
  
"Yep. Hey, where's your buddy, Greshwald?" Adam asked.  
  
"He's staying with Patrol Team for the time being. But we ain't safe yet. There's still a shit-load of aliens out there."  
  
By this time, a soldier with an air of importance walked towards the marines, and Manners snapped up to salute him. "Major Hickory, sir!"  
  
"At ease, Manners." Hickory answered. "Well, you arrived. Turns out we didn't need your help after all," he pointed at the passing Apache as he said this, "but any new troops are always welcome."  
  
"Sir, you're going to need all men you've got soon. There's a new type of alien out there, and it's faster and tougher to kill than the AS-33. They'll be here soon."  
  
Suddenly Hickory's radio started acting up. It was sergeant Brigson. "Sir, we've got BIG trouble! There's a helluva lot of aliens coming your way, and they look pissed off. This has got to be the biggest group of freaks so far!"  
  
"Good that you told us. Well then, don't just stand there. We'll have to prepare. Move!" he pointed at soldiers lounging on the tanks. They quickly scurried into their iron vehicles, one man staying up to watch from the hatch. The soldiers all ran to the side of the dam, their trigger fingers ready. Now Dylan saw that the other side of the dam was closed shut with huge gates. Nothing could get through that, not even the drones.  
  
Dylan stood there, pointing his rifle in the direction of the dam. They were all silent. The quietness started to press on Dylan's mind. Finally, after about five minutes, the attack commenced.  
  
Down the road ran an unearthly amount of slaves and drones. Dylan couldn't count the amount, but it seemed like all of the aliens were trying to attack them. They all ran down towards the dam. Hickory lifted his hand above his head, waiting for the right moment.  
  
"FIRE!!!" he yelled, and both tanks let off their rockets. The shots struck into the extra-terrestrials, sending bodies flying over both sides of the dam. The missile launcher started sending deathly hail at the aliens.  
  
"Infantry, commence fire!" Hickory called, and now the air filled with bullets. More and more aliens were dropping, but they were slowly advancing. The tanks sent more roaring death at the aliens. Now the air started to fill with drone hornets, going straight for the kill.  
  
"Deploy gas bombs!" Hickory yelled, and now a group of marines threw grenades to the aliens' side. They burst open, releasing some form of neuro- toxin, causing the hornets to drop to the ground. Yet as the gases cleared, more aliens advanced at them.  
  
Now a new threat appeared as three alien dropships appeared from over the mountainside and commenced to drop drones all over the dam. How all those monsters fit into the ship, Dylan couldn't fathom, but then, he didn't have time as he continued picking out aliens. The Apache intercepted the dropships, and fired a load of missiles among the ships.  
  
"Flame throwers, move!" Hickory ordered, and a group of marines with gasoline tanks on their backs and gas masks climbed over the tanks and started firing burning death among the aliens. Drones and slaves alike dropped like flies over the dam's railings and into the water.  
  
Dylan laughed sadistically as he kept dropping off the alien drones. No longer did he remember his disliking of fighting, he only wanted to see the hellbeasts die. Sure, those hornets hurt like Hell, but most of the things were killed by the gas bombs. Plus, the flame thrower troops were able to fight with their gas masks. They were steadily keeping the alien threat at bay.  
  
Then a fourth dropship appeared to the side of the dam. Dylan's eyes widened as the ship started flying high speed at him. A dozen marines were knocked off the dam, Dylan along with him. In horror he saw the water coming straight at him. A split second before splashing, he rolled into a ball, hoping the pain would be softened. He struck the water hard, his suit and position taking some of the pain. Dylan resurfaced and saw that the water was full of marines and aliens who had survived long enough to land in the water. The marines were fighting a brutal battle. Dylan didn't want to stay around, so he started climbing up a tower to the side.  
  
At first it went easily, then a drone on the dam saw him. The creep tried to fire at Dylan, but the hornets tired before getting near Dylan and plummeted into the water. Then a fifth dropship passed by, and the drone leaped off the dam and landed on top of the ship. The ship started floating in front of Dylan, and the drone commenced fire. Dylan couldn't fight back, so gritting his teeth, he slowly climbed up, trying to ignore the pain in his back.  
  
Luckily for him, the Apache passed by, and fired a missile at the dropship. The ship seemed to realize the threat, and sped off so fast that the drone lost balance and fell in the water.  
  
"Payback's a bitch," Dylan grinned pulling the pin off a grenade and dropping it onto the floating drone's stomach. The creature blew up, and Dylan continued upwards, chuckling all the way. He didn't even stop to think of how he was acting, he only coolly walked back to his position and started firing again.  
  
By this time, the aliens were at a heavy loss, and Hickory opted for offensive maneuvers. "Tanks, advance!" he waved, and the iron hulks jutted to motion. They slowly started to move downwards on the dam. A slave missing a leg laid on the ground and watched in horror as the tank tread came at his face. The drones, now feeling uneasy, fired a few shots, but the insects bounced off harmlessly. The drones stared at each other in horror and turned to run. The slaves, realizing their leaders were retreating, panicked and went in every direction that they could. Some were smart enough to run the way they came from, while others leaped over both sides of the dam.  
  
"We did it!" Dylan called to Adam, who ran up to him.  
  
"We got rid of the aliens! High five!" Adam cheered and the two slapped each others hand and laughed.  
  
Manners stared at them and smiled. He loved to see new soldiers winning their first big victory. But as he turned to stare at Hickory and the rest of Dam Team who were throwing insults at the aliens, he just shook his head. He knew the aliens they had fought were just a fraction of all the enemies in Black Mesa. The battle would continue for a long time.  
  
----------------  
  
Meanwhile, on the other side of the huge gate on the dam, a group of slaves lead by two drones marched along. They had successfully killed a small group of marines on patrol, and now continued searching for more enemies. The drones were brutally ushering the tired slaves on, never getting exhausted themselves.  
  
Then, one of the slaves saw a crate in a side alley between the buildings. The curious things were everywhere, and finally he went to see what they were. Despite the fear of being beaten by the drones for not continuing, the slave curiously scratched the crate and saw it could be damaged. With a large strike, the slave broke the crate open and found an M4 rifle. He twirled it in his hands, studying the object, fitting his large claw into the trigger.  
  
Then the looming shadow of one of the drones appeared behind him. The drone barked and beat the slave, causing the slave to have a flashback. All throughout his life, he had toiled for the good of Xen and been beaten by these things. Each day he had to suffer beatings for slacking off. Another struck came. The pressure was too much. A third strike came, and then the slave gave up. He wailed and accidentally pulled on the trigger.  
  
Not even the drone realized what had happened until seconds later. The bullet had flown straight into the drone's head. He stood dumbfounded for a second, then crashed backwards. The other drone angrily came up, but testing the trigger, the slave fired a bullet right in front of the drone's legs. Now assured and knowledgeable in the art of guns, the slave lifted the M4 at the drone, which worriedly stepped backwards. The slave then waved to his comrades, which ran over and started emptying the crate for guns of their own. Only one idea passed in their minds. Rebellion. 


	6. Advanced Rebellion

(Well, here's chapter 5. I'm not sure about the geographical location of places in Black Mesa, so I don't know if there is an outer gate in the complex, but it gives good reason for the next objective. Wow, I was extremely surprised by the amount of people (well, actually two) who thought the slave praying to the Nihilanth was great. I just added the scene so I could introduce the drones. Well, the slave's incredibly grateful for those who liked him, and to express his gratitude, I'm letting him answer your reviews.  
  
...  
  
Errgh... umm... oh yeah, umm, hello all you humans, I'm Eqqwua, that slave who prayed to our lord Nihilanth. Thanks for all who supported me, I really enjoyed it. So, I'm going to answer your reviews, instead of the normal routine of MikeFS answering them. So, let's get on with it, shall we?  
  
Hao and zUg mAh oAtaX: Nice to see you like the story, personally I hate it how my brothers were dropping like flies in chapter 4. And special thanks to Hao for supporting me!  
  
Blizrun: Yes, the scientist human was from your story. MikeFS told me to mention that he's happy you don't mind. But for the mod idea, terrible! Those cruel brothers of mine betrayed my lord! I at least will be sending lots of hate-mail to whoever makes such a mod.  
  
Raider: Although MikeFS said that he's happy you think chapter 4 was the best, I strongly disagree, you sadistic evil... person type person! No one ever thinks of what the slave feels like when his friend dies... But thanks for supporting me! I owe you!  
  
...  
  
Well, I guess that was it. Thanks to all who reviewed and a special thanks to Eqqwua for answering your reviews. This chapter starts to differ from Half-Life (aliens with guns), but not as much as when the (not-so) mysterious guy from Santa Fe appears, so enjoy this for as long as it's still Half-Life!  
  
Chapter 5: Advanced Rebellion  
  
The scientist sat in the small lab room's table, facing the only door out of the tiny room. It was long ago that he had gotten over the shock of seeing his mates being massacred by the military. He had killed off the small team, and now sat in the room, his eyes closed. He concentrated on listening: if he could hear a noise, he could define what manner of creature made the noise, and he would know exactly where to aim the rifle he had "borrowed" from the military to kill in a few shots.  
  
He was repeating over and over again in his mind the different sounds the aliens and marines emitted, when his thoughts were interrupted by gunfire coming from behind the door. Marines, he immediately thought, and lifted his gun to aim at the doorway. Most of the marines were just about the same length, so he knew where the marine's head would be when he would fling the door open. The scientist silently sat there, waiting for the door to open. And it did.  
  
As soon as the dark room flooded with light from the corridor, the scientist screamed with rage and started firing. He had already emptied his clip when he realized in horror that his bullets were passing over his enemy's head. Too late did he realize he wasn't shooting at a marine but an alien slave. Angrily, the slave fired his own assault rifle, and the scientist fell back. His last thought before dying was wondering how the aliens were able to learn to use firearms.  
  
The slave waved to the side, and soon the small room started to fill with alien slaves armed with various weaponry. They studied the room, but found that there was nothing to use for their revolution here except the "small guns" the "men in blue" used. Disappointed, the leader signaled a lunch break, and the slaves started hungrily picking on the dead corpses in the room.  
  
-----  
  
Dylan stood on the dam, leaning against the railing. He watched the bodies of aliens and soldiers float in the dam's waters. He was really distressed over his actions on the dam. His manic battling reminded him of his brother's killer. Then he finally shrugged the thought away. That man had no right to do so; here, fighting was the only way to survive.  
  
Finally pleased, Dylan walked off to hang with the other marines, resting on the dam. Meanwhile, Major Hickory was walking with Manners.  
  
"Did you know, Manners, that we might be pulling out soon?" Hickory asked.  
  
"No, sir! But why?!" Manners asked surprised.  
  
"This task is starting to become too great for us. With the appearance of the alien drones, the alien amount has increased. And there's more aliens out there. I got a call from the Lambda Team, guarding the Lambda Complex perimeters, of a new aerial enemy."  
  
"A task too big for the U.S. military?!" Manners shook his head in disbelief.  
  
"Yep. If we do retreat, we'll commence air strikes on this godforsaken place. But for now, we'll continue fighting. I have a job for you, Manners."  
  
"Anything you like, sir."  
  
"The dam is well secured, but I'm getting less and less reports from the gate area," Hickory pointed towards the massive gates.  
  
"Well, why don't you look behind it?"  
  
"Oh, don't be stupid," Hickory chuckled. "I mean the outer gate, that one's the inner gate."  
  
"Oh, right," Manners said sheepishly.  
  
"Your team's much more skilled in traveling here, so I'm sending your group to make a patrol to the outer gate."  
  
"Yes, sir, I'll prepare the troops right away!" Manners said. He then walked over to the middle of the dam. "All right, my group! We're setting out!"  
  
Dylan walked with the rest of his squad over to Manners.  
  
"Open the gates!" Hickory called, and a few marines ran to the controls by the side. "Manners, I'm giving you a little back-up," Hickory said and motioned to the side. One of the tanks started rolling towards them. Dylan couldn't help but smile as he saw the monstrous machine coming to their aid. They all stood there and waited as the massive gates rolled to the side.  
  
-----  
  
The slave stared horrified as his brother fell to the side. A small group of marines were firing at their ragged bunch. The drones kept ushering the slaves on, while firing at the marines making a stand in the small courtyard. Out of nowhere, both sides stopped and stared as a bullet struck into one of the marines. Soon a hail of rifle fire came down upon the marines. The slave watched in wonder as from behind the buildings corner, a pack of slaves gallantly marched. The slave couldn't believe his eyes: these new slaves were armed with enemy weaponry!  
  
The leading slave sneered, then calmly lifted up his assault rifle. He pulled the trigger and put a bullet in the head of one of the drones. The other slaves started picking out the drones before they had a chance to retaliate. The leading slave marched up to his unarmed brethren after the carnage ended.  
  
"Brothers, I am ending our toil with those brutes. We are going to break our shackles and escape the Nihilanth and his agents. Are you with me?"  
  
"Brother, our life is perfect as it is," one of the slaves said, still surprised. "We are protected by the holy Nihilanth and work for the good of our lives."  
  
"And a good job our lord has done protecting us here," the leader scowled. "We do not work for our good, we work for his benefit. And it is not an occupation we choose, but one which is forced to us upon birth. One in which we toil and are harshly beaten for stopping. Now, are you with me?"  
  
"We are!" an enthusiastic slave said stepping past his companions. "Tell us our assignment in this resistance, and I guarantee we will fulfill it to the best of our abilities!" The others nodded dubiously with him.  
  
"Good," the leader nodded. "I am giving you the honorary task of headcrab combatant," he gestured, and one of his mates carried a writhing bag to them. "They're specially trained to avoid "crabbing" slaves. Let me explain how to fight with them..."  
  
-----  
  
Dylan couldn't understand what was going on. They had traveled past a few buildings, yet things were eerily quiet. The area was littered with bodies, but not just of marines. There were corpses of drones among them. Although the tank was rolling behind them, Dylan couldn't help but feel frightened. Adam seemed to share the same feelings behind him, and was clutching his gun tightly.  
  
"Oh... my... god," a marine said and pointed at a soldier's body. "Look! Bullet holes!"  
  
"Does this mean that we have renegades?" Manners asked. No one could answer, so they continued on. They came to a clearing, and most marines stopped dead in their tracks.  
  
The clearing was littered with beheaded bodies of scientists and marines. In the middle, a cluster of metal bars were placed. On each bar, a bloody head of a human had been stuck on. Dylan wondered who was brutal enough to create such an act. He kept staring in shock, but his thoughts were broken when everything turned red in his eyes for a second. Dylan wondered what it was and turned to ask Adam if he saw anything, but stopped. A small infra- red dot was pointing at Adam's forehead.  
  
"Adam, duck!" he leaped at his friend. They both fell on the ground just as gunfire was heard. A bullet went straight into a nearby marine's leg.  
  
"Shit! Snipers!" Manners cursed, frantically looking around the field for their enemy. Another marine flew backwards from the force as a bullet was imbedded in his head. Dylan saw the dot appear on his stomach, and rolled to the side just as another shot rang. He leaped up and looked at one of the windows. Though it was dark and he couldn't see who was firing, he saw a sniper rifle's barrel sticking out.  
  
"There!" he called and lobbed a grenade into the window. The hole lighted for a second, and the rifle fell from the window. Now a new threat appeared as the marines heard a slave's gibberish talk from above. They looked up to see one pounce from a roof, holding... a headcrab! It landed on one of the marines and stuck the crab onto the man's head. He squirmed for a second, then fell limp. More of these headcrab combatants started leaping down, but now the marines backed away and opened fire.  
  
But Dylan stopped for a second to watch as the slave did the most unexpected thing possible: after crabbing the man, he grabbed the marine's rifle and started firing.  
  
"Oh damn!" Dylan yelled and started shooting at this slave. It collapsed on the body of the headcrabbed soldier. Dylan hoped that was the only alien slave with the ability to use firearms, but his hopes fell as the door to one of the buildings burst open. He looked to see more of the filthy slaves appear, armed with all kinds of weapons. He started backing away as a burly slave stepped out, brandishing a machine gun. Slow backing turned into frantic running as he dashed for cover behind the tank as the gun started firing at them. Most marines did the same thing and hid behind the tank.  
  
Dylan grabbed a grenade and started to pull the pin, when he felt the hard metal of a pistol in the back of his head. He heard alien gibberish and the sound of the trigger being slowly pulled. He spun around and knocked the slave off balance. The alien threw his gun in the air as it collapsed, which Dylan grabbed from midair and emptied into the slave.  
  
"Move for that alley!" Manners yelled to the tank, which started to lurch at the gap between the buildings. The marines ran along with the tank, using it for cover as they fired at he aliens. A soldier dropped dead next do Dylan as the aliens continued their fire. A slave ran through the mass of attacking aliens, and threw a projectile into the air. Only once it started to fall, Dylan saw it was a grenade. He ran backwards and heard as the shell blew up. He slowly turned to see two more men down. He quickly hid behind the tank, as he was a sitting duck alone in the field.  
  
The tank now moved into the alleyway, and the marines ran in front of it. They continued on into another clearing, but dived backwards as a rocket flew right in front of them. Dylan peered behind the corner to see an alien manning a missile turret.  
  
"We can't afford to lose the tank! Henderson, take out that missile launcher before the tank gets into the area!" Manners yelled, and Dylan hurried off, too much in a hurry to question the reason why HE had to take out the machine.  
  
-----  
  
The rebellion's leader watched as one of his faction's members manned the missile turret. The thing worked much like the guns, so the slave didn't have trouble learning to pilot it. The leader was surprised that there were more humans here. He had only a little while ago cleared the area when he put up the decapitated heads for headcrab bait, and didn't expect more to appear.  
  
Now he humored himself watching as one of the silly humans ran from his cover. The missile launcher started firing, but the human was faster and ran from the spot where the rocket struck. The human dived for cover behind one of the barrels holding the strange black flammable liquid.  
  
"Hah! The fool doesn't understand what predicament he's in. It's an easy shot from here!" the leader laughed, and watched in sadistic glee as the missile set off. His eyes were fixed onto the missile as it passed through the air, striking into the oil barrel, making a cosmic explosion. His calm posture, however, changed into worried as something was wrong. Where was the body?  
  
"NO!" he screamed. He had watched the missile so concentrated, that he hadn't watched what the human was doing. He, along with the few slaves with him, looked around for the human.  
  
"There he is!" one yelled, and pointed to a window of one of the buildings. The leader realized the human must have dived through the window into the house. The launcher turned towards, but too slowly: soon the human was next to the launcher and fired a grenade. The leader ran off as the launcher behind him blew up into a smoldering pile of junk metal. Now truly worried, he started scurrying with his companions. Luck was on his side, though: from behind one of the corners came one of his mates on a Hummer.  
  
"What, pray tell, is that?" the leader asked curiously.  
  
"I haven't the slightest clue, sir. But whatever it is, it's surprisingly mobile. Climb aboard!" the slave waved to the leader, who climbed into the Hummer. The others tried to fit in, but not all fitted, and had to make due by hanging on the Hummer, which sped off away from the action.  
  
-----  
  
Dylan sighed as he saw the missile launcher burst in to flames, and ran back over to the other marines. It was safe for the tank to travel on now, which it did. The marines backed up along with the iron monster, firing from behind it. The slaves were slowly starting to stop in their tracks, not wanting to come face to face with the tank's projectiles.  
  
"Major Hickory, sir, we have a problem," Manners called on his radio.  
  
"Again?" Hickory's annoyed answer came.  
  
"This is bad, sir. The alien slaves have the ability and resources to use firearms, grenades, and other weaponry."  
  
"You're kidding. Keep heading for the outer gates, we'll secure the inner gate. I'll send the Apache to patrol around that area."  
  
"Yes, sir," Manners closed the transmission and started to head down the path where the missile launcher had stood moments ago. "This way! The tank can stay here and hold back the aliens!"  
  
-----  
  
The rebellion leader sat along with the driver in the Hummer, amazed by the speed in the thing. He found this new machine quite handy.  
  
Yet his greatest surprise came around the rocky mesa. As the Hummer came around, the leader's eyes fell upon a small heliport with an Apache on it. A small resistance squad of marines were wearily resting, having barely survived a fight with some drones. The leader signaled one of his brothers to climb up and man the gun. The marines watched in horror as their teammates were shred next to them, and soon shared the same fate.  
  
As the gun stopped firing, the leader climbed out of the Hummer and went to take a look at the Apache. He marveled at the metallic bird, then turned towards the other slaves.  
  
"I want you to search the area for more of these toys! You two, come help me study how to pilot this new contraption!"  
  
-----  
  
Dylan and the marines ran down the path after Manners. They passed a mountain on the side, but looked warily at the garage building to their side. Dylan grimly noted that one of the garage doors had been shred open and that it was conveniently empty of cars. The sound of gunfire and tank fire came from behind the corner. They now saw the outer gate, metallic sliding double doors on a wall stamped between two mesas. There were a few guard buildings around the area.  
  
"So, this is our current objective," Manners said. "Now where's..." Manners' words were cut short as he saw what had caused the Team reports lessen. The ground was covered with burning craters, and body parts littered the sand.  
  
"Looks like rocket launcher shots," Adam said as the marines gathered around the crater area.  
  
"If the aliens have rocket launchers, then we're..." Dylan's fears became true as a roaring voice came from above. The marines looked up: three slaves with rocket launchers stood on the roof of one of the security buildings.  
  
"Spread out!" Manners called, and they started running for cover. A few unfortunately slow marines were blown to pieces. The force sent Dylan flying onto the ground. He found himself to be behind a burning Jeep, but another rocket came at him and he watched in awe as the Jeep jumped upwards, then started to plummet at him. Dylan rolled to the side, barely dodging the flaming vehicle. He jumped upwards and ran for cover behind a barrel as the ground around him started to fill with craters.  
  
The marines were making a stand behind Jeeps and rubble, firing at the slaves on top of the building. Dylan decided to run for the Jeeps, considering the barrel a bit too small to be effective. Yet he stopped trying to run for cover as a working Jeep with three aliens came around one of the corners, and straight at him.  
  
The aliens stared maniacally as Dylan, instead of jumping to the side, ran straight at the Jeep. At the last moment, Dylan dived forwards, smashing through the windshield and between the aliens on the seats. Ironically, the same thing had happened earlier, only it had been the alien which had suddenly appeared among the passengers. Not wasting time though, Dylan immediately landed a punch on the driving alien. He then started to push it out, and to help out the job, stuck a bullet or two into the alien's head. The dead slave rolled out of the car as Dylan took the wheel.  
  
The other slaves angrily clawed at Dylan, who shrugged the pain off and veered the Jeep left. It started suddenly go straight at the building the slaves stood on.  
  
"Buh-bye," Dylan grinned dropping a pinless grenade into the Jeep and jumping out. The car slammed into the security building, causing an explosion which shook the very foundations of the building. One of the slaves looked worriedly down as the wall crumbled under him, causing him to fall. Two marines picked him out quickly and rejoiced. Their celebration was cut short as another rocket struck one of them in the chest.  
  
The aliens were apparently not satisfied with fighting Dam Team with cars, and down the road they had come from came the same Hummer the slave leader had escaped on. Dylan scurried for cover behind a wrecked car as the ground near him started filling with bullets. One of the remaining two rocket trooper slaves leaped off the building roof and onto the car's roof, where they continued pelting.  
  
Now all marines stood up to run around, since cover wasn't going to be of use against such a mobile enemy. The Hummer u-turned towards the marines, and Dylan started to run as two rockets started passing towards them. Dylan ran from one and dived over the other, cuddling into a ball to survive the initial explosion. He stood up, only to duck as he was fired from the roof of the Hummer. The car soon stopped taking aim at him, and concentrated on killing the other marines. Dylan fired a grenade from his rifle, which soared across the sky, blowing up near the Hummer. It winded for a moment, then straightened out and turned to make another attack.  
  
No one was trying to kill Dylan at the moment, so he started firing at the attacking vehicle, which came closer and closer... in fact, Dylan realized, the driver was going to ram him! He fell flat onto the ground, then rolled onto his back as the Hummer drove over him. He fired at the bottom of the car with his rifle, which seemed to have effect as the Hummer no longer drove in a straight line. Then a rocket flew only a few feet away from him.  
  
For a second, Dylan didn't know what was going on. He only felt himself float and suddenly land on the ground. For a second he could only hazily pick out the sound of gunfire, and wearily stood up. That blast had hurt a lot. Soon his mind cleared and he realized it'd be hurting a lot more if he just sat there. So, he jumped upwards, and saw two things. First, the rocket trooper on the roof loaded another rocket and prepared to fire at him. Second, the Hummer was about to pass him.  
  
"Only one chance to end this," Dylan shook his head. Hadn't he suffered enough? Putting his plan into motion, Dylan leaped forwards just as the slave fired another rocket. He flew forwards, and just at the right moment, the Hummer appeared next to him. Dylan pushed forwards on the hood, and flew past the Hummer. The rocket, however, struck straight into the engine. The Hummer blew up, skidding forwards as a wreck. The gunner wildly shook on the machine gun, firing upwards. He accidentally killed the remaining rocket slave before loosing his grip on the teetering gun and falling down, breaking his neck.  
  
Dylan slowly stood up from the ground, and looked over at the marines. They were cheering at him. He smiled back, then collapsed from exhaustion.  
  
-----  
  
The slaves relentlessly barraged the tank. They had already given up using the human weapons, and now just crawled over the thing. One of the slaves found the hatch to the tank and opened it. He scurried in to find the machine that run this hellish monster, and soon found the reason: more humans.  
  
Blood squirted out of the hatch and into the sky for a brief moment, then the slaves watched as the alien climbed out, drenched in human blood.  
  
"Go get our leader. Tell him the silver beast has been tamed," the slave called to the others, and a group ran off while the others stayed to cheer their great victory.  
  
-----  
  
"Sir, come see this," Adam called from the top of the gate. He had climbed up onto the wall along with a few marines to scout for aliens, and the area was quiet, except...  
  
Manners climbed up on the ladder and came to watch while a few marines tended Dylan on the ground. "What in the name of God..?"  
  
They could see in the distance the large fencing shielding Black Mesa from the world. Behind it, they saw a dust cloud coming at them. As it came closer, Manners saw that it was a rugged group of trucks and some types of tanks that he hadn't seen before. They solemnly watched as the group crashed through the 10-foot fence and continued on towards Black Mesa. The marines uneasily gripped their weapons, unsure if these newcomers were friend or foe. 


	7. From Russia With Love

(Sorry this chapter took so long! I burned my hands during home economics. Thank god I won't have that lesson in 8th grade. My chances of burning my hands in molten coconut fat will greatly lessen!  
  
If you're wondering why the normal witty title of the chapter isn't on FF.net, it's because it's too witty. While it sounds really cool, it nastily gives out the plot. If you really want to know it, scroll down to the bottom. Of course, that'll give up even more surprises, so I don't suggest it until you've read the chapter. I'll put up the title later on. Well, the reviews.  
  
Hao: Hmm... you have a point there. I'd love to have the aliens have some cool special weapons, but I have to keep the story realistic. You see, the slaves only have the weapons they can find in Black Mesa, so it's practically impossible to find a poisonous hivearm since there are none there. Of course, I'll consider those ideas if I ever make a sequel. And no, I'm not commenting on the chances of a sequel appearing.  
  
Raider: You THINK it's me... =). Ah, I stole something accidentally from you? Whoops. I can guarantee I thought the falling Jeep up myself. It's just a coincidence.  
  
Jon: Thanks for enjoying the story. No, unfortunately I'm not adding the big guy since he's a bit overkill. And no, the panzer dudes aren't in the game, I'm just adding them to keep things interesting, since, heck, you all know what's going on in Half-Life!  
  
zUg mAh oAtaX: Thanks for your support. All right, I admit, I'm a good writer. Also, the slave can't say thanks to you for supporting him right now, because he's having a huge ego problem and moved to Hollywood to become a sci-fi actor, but here's a complimentary tap-dancing headcrab! *Tappity tappity tappity SKREEE!*  
  
Tony: Your wish is my command!  
  
Ok, now that that's done, read on! This chapter seems a bit uninteresting and blah, but as you'll note, it's only the front for really cool action, so do continue!)  
  
Chapter 6  
  
The tanks and trucks kept moving ever so closer. Adam started to go back down the wall to keep an eye on the unconscious Dylan. Manners stayed to watch as the newcomers came. The vehicles came to a halt in front of the gates.  
  
"Hey there!" Manners called as a man jumped out from one of the trucks. "Who are you and what the Hell do you think you're doing here?!"  
  
The man looked up, surprised, and saw the small group of marines. He turned towards one of the tanks. The man yelled complete gibberish to the tank and climbed back in the truck. The tank immediately started to turn it's turret towards the wall.  
  
"Oh shit!" Manners yelled and started climbing down the ladder. "Get down, you fools! Their going to blast the wall right where you're standing!" The marines all started climbing down the ladder. Some made it down, but then the tank blasted at the wall. Concrete flew in all directions and the ladder collapsed downwards, crushing the people on the ladder.  
  
"Dylan, wake up, dammit!" Adam yelled and slapped Dylan's face. Dylan started to wake up.  
  
"Ow, what just hit me?" Dylan groaned getting up, but soon his eyes widened as he saw a massive truck driving through the hole in the wall.  
  
"I did!" Adam yelled running away from the truck. "You can thank me later!" The marines started to retreat away behind one of the small mountains there. Dylan jumped upwards and ran away to join the others.  
  
"Sir, we are in desperate need of back-up!" Manners called in his radio as the small area in front of the gates started to fill with trucks and tanks.  
  
"Again? Goddammit Manners, can't you keep out of trouble?" Hickory cursed. "Take it easy, both Rail and Patrol Team are moving towards that area, so you just wait for back-up!"  
  
"Who are those guys anyway?" Dylan asked peering behind the corner. The man from before jumped out of the truck. He was wearing a fur coat and a fur hat on his head, which made him look out of place in the desert. In his hand he had some kind of old sub-machine gun which Dylan had seen in some old war movies.  
  
The man said something completely incomprehensible and scratched his head. He then shouted some more of the strange language, and all the trucks burst open. A huge group of men armed with old weaponry leaped out of the 18- wheelers and assembled around the supposed leader. The unknown man pointed towards some buildings and yelled orders at his men, and most scurried off in all directions.  
  
"Da, Dimitri," one of the men nodded to his leader and went off to join his companions.  
  
"Da? Wait, isn't that German for 'yes'?" Dylan asked the others.  
  
"No Henderson, the German yes is 'jawohl'. Da is Russian," Manners said and started to turn away.  
  
"Russian?" Dylan said in disbelief. "They're Russians?!" Dylan couldn't believe it. Why would Russians appear in Black Mesa? Why?! The thought seemed so pointless.  
  
Dylan's pondering was cut short as a loud hum came from the sky and an Apache flew over the buildings. The Russian leader screamed and his men started running for cover as the Apache opened fire. The Apache turned in the air after taking out some of the new guys and started to fly back. Just then, Manners' radio started to act up.  
  
"Sir, this is Office Team. We are sinking the office on top of itself, and are then heading over to the outer gates. Major Hickory has informed that you are to head to the west to stop a group of aliens. We'll take it from here."  
  
"You do that, Office Team," Manners spoke to his radio, "but tell Major Hickory to look up the info on these new guys. They are a group of seemingly Russians whose intentions are so far unknown to us. They're armed with MP-40 sub-machine guns and have they have some type of an old tank. Their leader is apparently called 'Dimitri'."  
  
"Affirmative, sir, we'll give Major Hickory the message. Over and out," the transmission ended and the Apache started to circle again.  
  
"All right, let's move! Target is to west of here!" Manners called and the marines ran from their cover. Dylan looked to his side and saw that the Russians were for some reason stacking up crates near the tanks. One of the Russians saw the running marines and yelled. The tank turned to fire, but was interrupted as the Apache did another fly-by attack. The marines continued to run onto a path leading up the small mesa there. The man called Dimitri called to his men who all started to run away, and climbed into one of the trucks.  
  
-----  
  
"Hmm..." the slave leader muttered as he sat in one of the Hummers they had found. He was reading a book he had found off of one of the scientists. The title was 'English Dictionary'. The leader had spared one of the scientists, and was now practicing English with the terrified scientist as his tutor.  
  
"What this mean?" the leader asked the scientist with his poor English skill and pointed in the book.  
  
"Give up," the scientist read in a trembling voice. "Give up," he repeated and started to act out groveling in front of the leader and pleading.  
  
"Give... up..." the leader practiced and then turned towards the driver. "Ahh, give up!" he called in his native language to the driver. "Hey, stop here. I will practice this 'English' on those silly 'marines' over there."  
  
The Hummer came to a screeching halt in front of Office Team, who had climbed out of the offices. The lieutenant was just about to pull the trigger on the detonators, causing the office to collapse, crushing everything under. He now stared at the Hummer manned by alien slaves. The gunner on the Hummer was about to shoot the marines, but the leader signaled him to halt and climbed up onto the roof.  
  
"Humans!" he called in his bad English. "You... give up... or we... we... how you say this again?" he turned to his scientist helper.  
  
"Kill," the scientist muttered shaking his head.  
  
"Dank you," the slave said. "We kill you!" he called out.  
  
"Fuck you, freak!" the lieutenant called.  
  
"What he say?" the leader asked.  
  
"He say he not give up," the scientist whimpered and hid inside the Hummer.  
  
"Humph," the leader shook his head and pulled a radio he had snatched from the marines from the bottom. "Our enemies decided to show off their foolishness. Commence attacks."  
  
"What the..?" the lieutenant asked as an Apache came over one of the mountains. He lifted the detonator up in horror. "Oh SHI--"  
  
The lieutenant flew backwards as the Apache opened fire on him. The detonator flew from his grasp and bounced among the marines. One reached down and grabbed it, but flew into the air as a missile struck among them.  
  
The Apache lowered down and the slave leader climbed in. He had been lucky to find the Apache. It was his most useful toy in the battle so far.  
  
"PULL THE TRIGGER GODDAMMIT!" a marine screamed as another dived for the detonator. He leaped upwards and ran for cover as the Apache started to circle above them.  
  
"Get out of here! I'm taking them with me!" the marine with the detonator screamed. The others started to rush for the gates out of the courtyard, firing at the Apache. They were met with missile fire. But Office Team was too great to be taken out with a few missiles, and most of the marines reached out of the area and dashed into a tunnel in the mountainside. Disappointed, the Apache started to circle around the courtyard, looking for the one marine left behind.  
  
The marine was hiding behind a stack of crates. He peered slightly over to see the still parked Hummer. "On a count of three..." he whispered to himself.  
  
Three. The marine nervously gripped the small detonator. The Apache flew over him, not aware of the last marine.  
  
Two. The marine felt cold sweat run down his body. He wouldn't make it. The Apache flew over the crates again, and started turning. It would spot him in a manner of seconds.  
  
One. He firmly turned to look at the Hummer, still standing in the middle of the courtyard. "Catch me, Lord."  
  
Click.  
  
-----  
  
Dylan sat in watch on top of the mountain. The marines were all climbing down a ladder into a silo in the mountain. Dylan watched for the aliens, Black Mesa employees, and now the mysterious Russians. Who were they? Why were they armed with what Manners claimed to be an MP-40, an ancient weapon? What was their motives?  
  
He thought of these for a while, then just decided to enjoy the view. The area looked nice. A canyon was to the west of where he stood, and more mountains to the south. He saw, in the east, buildings and the gates. Some Apaches were circling over the buildings, firing often. Hopefully they were dealing with the Russians along with the aliens.  
  
The view was great. Dylan turned to watch behind him the line of marines climbing down the ladder into the cliff side. Adam had already gone in. Manners was standing there, waiting for Dam Team to climb down.  
  
Suddenly, a massive roar filled the air. All the marines turned to look to the south. The ground started to violently shake, and a few marines fell on their knees. A massive dust cloud rose from behind the mountain, which started to sink. Dylan watched in awe as the massive hunk of stone started to crumble into the ground. Then, as soon as it had begun, the mountain stopped sinking. But the roaring and clouds continued.  
  
"The air raids?" Manners wondered, then shook his head and waved for the marines to continue climbing into the silo. Dylan continued watching the dust cloud in wonder, until he was distracted by another noise. The noise of an engine...  
  
"Shit!" Dylan yelled and threw a grenade down the pathway leading down the mountain. "Hurry up! They're coming in a truck!"  
  
The truck appeared over the side of the mountain and drove at full speed towards the marines. Cursing, Manners ushered the marines down the ladder faster. No longer climbing down, the marines grabbed the sidebars and slid down the ladder.  
  
"Dasvidanya, Americans!" the driver called in English from out of the window in a thick accent, which only caused the marines to go faster. Then Dylan's grenade blew up under the truck. The tires and axle collapsed from under the truck, causing it to skid forwards. The driver, turning out to be the so-called Dimitri, jumped out of the truck and started screaming curses.  
  
"Move it, Henderson!" Manners yelled, as they were the only two left on top of the mountain. Dylan leaped onto the ladder and slid down the shaft. The temperature cooled down and the light at the top shrunk as Dylan descended. Soon he saw Manners come down too, and Dylan sighed with relief.  
  
However, he sighed too early, as Dimitri's shadow appeared over the hole. Dylan watched as the Russian dropped something ablaze down at them. Dylan couldn't make out what it was, but Manners soon screamed down: "Molotov cocktail! Look out!"  
  
Dylan worriedly looked down to see a light growing under them. He heard a large explosion, and saw the air above him fill with rubble. Dylan grabbed onto the sides, forcing himself to slow down as he landed into the silo, deep in the mountainside. He immediately leaped backwards to make room for Manners. The lieutenant also came down, then fell backwards as the shaft the shaft they had come down was clogged with dislodged granite.  
  
A drone hornet whizzing past Dylan immediately made him turn around and pull out his assault rifle. He surveyed the silo imbedded into the cliff. The cold dank room was massive. Rows and rows of chemical vats dominated the area. Some were marked with bio-hazardous signs, most were marked with a nuclear sign. Dylan realized this was the nuclear and toxic waste storage space of Black Mesa.  
  
Another hornet flew past Dylan, turning again to hit him. Dylan started running away, looking around for the enemy. The catwalks above the vats were littered with alien drones. Dam Team was scattered among the vats, firing upwards at the drones. Some had climbed the ladders up to the catwalk and continued to fight the aliens. So, this was the alien infestation, Dylan thought as he saw Adam's familiar face.  
  
"Hey, you still alive?" Dylan asked and joined Adam in firing up at the drones.  
  
"Ouch! Not for long!" Adam yelled and pulled out one of he hornets from his skin. "Damn those bastards," he hissed and dropped a drone. The creature crashed backwards and toppled over the railing into one of the vats.  
  
"I'm gonna go fight 'em up there," Dylan pointed and ran for the ladders. He started to climb up it and fired halfway up at a drone. The monster collapsed on the ground, and Dylan climbed up on top of the catwalk.  
  
Another drone noticed him and started firing. Dylan ran down a side path as the hornets flew through the gaps in the railing at him. He rolled on the ground and dodged the insects, then shot a grenade at the drone. It blew to pieces, sending chunks of alien flesh flying into the vats. The chunks melted soon upon contact.  
  
Now a new batch of drones teleported in, and one appeared right in front of Dylan. It swung at Dylan, sending him flying over the railing. Dylan grasped the side of the catwalk before falling, and now hanged above the vat of sickly green goo. He shimmied himself slowly along the catwalk towards a ladder, but the drone sneered down at him and stepped on Dylan's foot. The marine lost his grasp and started falling... and grabbed a rope hanging from an Apache!  
  
Dylan looked up to see that a massive hatch in the roof had opened, and that a bunch of Apache's had flown in the silo, demonstrating the sheer size of the cavern. One Apache had lowered the rope to save Dylan before plummeting into his nuclear tomb. The choppers now set off to fire among the hapless drones. Dylan jumped off the rope onto the catwalk and ran for the ladder. He heard missiles blow up behind him, and saw the catwalk collapsing, dropping the drones into the tanks of sludge. Dylan grabbed a ladder and climbed down.  
  
Adam ran up to Dylan as he climbed down. "Check it out. Patrol Team called. They're sending their troops to stop those Russians, but they stopped over here."  
  
Patrol Team. The team with most aerial vehicles. Funny how Apaches were flying deep in the mountains. Dylan thought of these as the marines regrouped around Manners. The lieutenant called sergeant Brigson after everyone had assembled.  
  
"Hey you, thanks for the back-up," Manners spoke as Brigson answered. "But look, has Hickory called about those Russians yet?"  
  
"Yeah, as a matter of fact, he did, sir," Brigson responded. "He forwarded the message to the government, and they checked it up. There wasn't any saying about any Dimitri, but apparently an Arkadi Renko recently donated World War 2-era weaponry to a war museum in California. Mr. Renko used to be a captain in the Soviet Union, and expressed strong communistic points of views after the U.S.S.R fell. He recently moved to Boston on a government assignment. Could it be some of his friends there?"  
  
"Probably, but that still doesn't explain what they want here," Manners answered. "Can you deal with the Renko's men while we secure the silo?"  
  
"Sure thing, we're flying over you right now." Dylan looked up and saw the familiar osprey fly over the massive hatch. "We're gonna commence attacks any... OH FUCK!" the transmission ended for a second, and the marines worriedly look up. A massive explosion appeared on the chopper's side. "Oh fuck! We took a howitzer shot! Damn Russians! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh..." the transmission ended again as the copter started to plummet.  
  
"Oh... my... god!" Dylan yelled and ran up to Manners. "Sir! You've GOT to let me go after Patrol Team! You've got to!"  
  
"What the hell for, Henderson?" Manners asked Dylan.  
  
"Why?! Greshwald was up there!" Dylan almost spat the answer worriedly. He had left his wounded friend with Patrol Team, so he would be safe up in the air. But now, Dylan feared for his life.  
  
"Fine, it's your death, not mine," Manners waved, seeing the worry over his friend in Dylan's eyes.  
  
"Dylan, you can't be serious," Adam stared.  
  
"Greshwald's one of the few people who I really trust! I've got to save him!" Dylan said and started running for a door in the side of the mountain.  
  
"If you're so serious, then I'm coming with you," Adam said. "That is, if it's all right, sir."  
  
"Eh, fine, go on, you're the ones dying," Manners shrugged, although he secretly slightly hoped for Dylan to help out his buddy.  
  
"Ok, let's go," Dylan said and started turning the wheel that opened the thick door, thankful that his only other friend in Black Mesa was coming with him. Together, the two stepped outside to take on whatever odds there were.  
  
The two immediately ran for cover behind a large building. They wouldn't make it alone for long, so they had to use stealth. They went along the wall, but stopped as they heard the most unexpected of sounds coming from behind a corner: a mobile phone ringing.  
  
"Dimitri Eshtelkov, dobrui denj," they heard the Russian leader answer the phone. They peered behind the corner. Dimitri stood there, talking to a mobile phone. Behind him, a bunch of Russians were fighting the survivors of the crashed osprey. Dylan immediately wanted to rage on, but Adam stopped him.  
  
"Dimitri you fool, quiet down. I'm in a public place, it gathers too much attention to speak in Russian," a thick accented voice respond.  
  
"Sorry Arkadi! What do you want, boss?"  
  
"How is the mission going, Dimitri?"  
  
"Just fine, boss. We've already gathered quite an amount of military weaponry, along with some uranium and what we believe is smallpox. What will we do with them once we've collected the amount you asked for?"  
  
"Send them to my villa in Moscow, Dimitri. I will pay for the shipping. Have you met any resistance?"  
  
"Yes, boss. It's just as you had calculated from your eavesdropping. The Cossack resonance caused extra-terrestrial beings to appear here. Also, the military has been a thorn in our side since our arrival. Though I'm happy to report one of our howitzers dropped a helicopter from the sky. Those stupid Americans didn't know what hit them."  
  
"All right you bastard, it's time you pay up!" Dylan screamed after hearing enough and fired from behind the corner. Dimitri was taken off guard, but most bullets went past him. He screamed and ran for cover inside a building. Dylan then extended his rage on the other Russians fighting. Like their leader, they were surprised by the attack, and dropped like flies. Along with Adam and Patrol Team, the small group of Russians soon diminished.  
  
"Who the Hell are you?" sergeant Brigson asked after the Russians had fallen.  
  
"Private Henderson and private Dykowski," Dylan said walking up. "We came to pick up private Greshwald, for personal reasons."  
  
"Private Gresh... oh, right, the wounded guy. He's over there," the sergeant pointed at Greshwald, seemingly intact, on an operation table. Dylan rushed up to see his friend, who seemed a lot better than before, but still vulnerable. Greshwald laid asleep, his face distorted into an uneasy expression.  
  
"Well, he's all yours. We're moving out. Even when we're down, we still gotta do our tasks," Brigson said and waved to his men. The group hiked off among the few buildings there, leaving Dylan, Adam, and Greshwald alone with the crashed osprey.  
  
"Thank god," Dylan sighed, and started pushing the table towards the direction they had come from. Adam joined him, and they walked along. Then the familiar HEV-suit of Gordon Freeman came around the corner.  
  
-----  
  
"Regroup!" Manners called to the marines as all the aliens so far were cleared from the silo. The Patrol Team Apaches had left the cave a long time ago, and the massive rooftop hatch had been closed. If the Russians had a howitzer, then they could easily fire through the hatch. Thus, it had been closed.  
  
"All right, let's reload our weapons until the next batch of aliens show up," Manners said, and the marines started to change the clips in their guns. Manners himself sighed as the action had died down, until he was interrupted by his radio.  
  
"Sir! SIR! This is Patrol Team! We've just spotted a GX-500 moving your way! You've got to keep all your doors closed! Do you understand, sir?!"  
  
"What? What's a GX-500?" Manners asked.  
  
"There's no time! Are you sure the doors into the silo are closed?!"  
  
"Yes, yes, their closed. We'll be safe from any alien in here."  
  
"You better hope so, Manners, you better hope so. This IS a GX-500 we're talking of. Stay in the silo until the danger has passed. We're only thinking of your safety, sir." Then the transmission ended.  
  
Manners turned uneasily towards the door. Whatever a GX-500 was, it was out there. With Adam and Dylan.  
  
-----  
  
"You again?!" Dylan spat the words at Freeman. He threw away his gun to the side and walked up to the man. Gordon pulled his rifle, unsure what the marine was doing.  
  
"You sissy gonna fight with a damn gun?! Put up your dukes, and we'll finish what we started in the rail systems!" Dylan challenged Gordon. Freeman looked at Dylan with a puzzled look, then remembered.  
  
"You! You're the marine from earlier! You've lived this long, eh?" he asked Dylan.  
  
"Cut with the chit-chat you nerd and fight!" Dylan said and both men raised their fists once more. Adam sat down on the sand to watch the two take each other on.  
  
Dylan no longer bothered to try and find a weakness in Gordon's defense, and just attacked head-on by jamming his shoulder in Freeman's gut. Gordon leaped backwards and kicked Dylan in the face. He fell backwards, but then rolled to the side as Gordon attempted a punch. Lying on the ground, Dylan grabbed Gordon's leg, pulling him off-balance.  
  
The two now grabbed each other on the ground, and rolled in the sand hitting each other. Gordon pried Dylan's hands off him and kicked Dylan in the stomach. He then climbed up and dropped on Dylan as he held his stomach in pain. But Dylan, just before being crushed, rolled forwards, causing Freeman to fall on his legs. The two wearily stood back up to fight each other.  
  
Dylan sent a roundhouse kick at Gordon's side, but the scientist blocked the foot. "I happened to take notes during our last fight," Freeman grinned, pointing to the fact that last time Dylan had successfully kicked him. He now threw his sort-of famous groin kick at Dylan again.  
  
"I took notes too!" Dylan yelled and grabbed Gordon's leg before it reached it's target. He lifted the leg up and caused Gordon to fall on his back. Dylan brought his boot on Freeman, but Freeman rolled to the side, and the boot hit nothing but sand. Dylan fell flat on the ground and they once again began their rolling slugfest. They rolled all over the area, almost crashing into the fallen osprey. Finally, Gordon landed a painful punch, causing Dylan's nose to bleed. Dylan groaned laying on the ground, and Gordon lifted his fist to hit him again...  
  
THUMP.  
  
"Holy Hell!" Adam gasped as the ground itself shook. One of the osprey's wings whined and broke off from the shock. Both fighters stopped and stared towards one of the buildings.  
  
"Oh my god," Gordon whispered standing up.  
  
"What was that?" Dylan asked as he stood up too. Neither of them wanted to fight. Both were worried by the massive shockwave.  
  
"Oh Hell, not a gargantuan," Gordon worriedly said and started to back up.  
  
"Code name GX-500..." Adam said and started to back up too, taking the table with Greshwald along with him.  
  
"A what?" Dylan asked, unsure what was going on, but very worried.  
  
"When I was still with Rail Team, we got a report from Power Team, guarding the power supply to the rails. They were yelling of a massive enemy called GX-51, but they were killed before the report was finished," Adam explained to Dylan. "Since we weren't sure if the thing was real, we renamed it GX-500. The only thing we know of it is it's big and near unstoppable."  
  
"Not near," Gordon corrected Adam, "but completely unstoppable, at least with normal weaponry."  
  
"Gentlemen," Gordon called turning away, "I suggest if we want to live, we go that way," he pointed in the other direction that the sound had come from and ran in that exact direction. Adam sped off after him, pushing Greshwald with him.  
  
"What going... yipes!" Dylan exclaimed and turned to run after the others as a huge blue foot appeared behind the corner of the building they had been watching, sending another shockwave.  
  
(Ha! Booyah! Fooled you, didn't I? Of course I was going to have the gargantuan appear. It wouldn't be Half-Life without the blue killing machine. Sorry I lied to you Jon, but I did it only so it wouldn't give out a plot twist. This would have sucked if you would have known garg would be coming, don't you agree? Ah well, let's just party. Next chapter might be a bit short sine it's mostly action, but it's gonna be gargantuan galore! Oh, and to any Russian reader out there: I'm sorry for stereotyping you. I realize Russians seem to always be bad guys these days (C&C Red Alert 2, Metal Gear Solid 2, etc.), but I only added it to keep the story interesting. In fact, I think Russia's a real cool place, and I don't really think Russians are all extreme communists. So please forgive me if someone was offended by this latest chapter. And one more pointer, the chapter's name is From Russia With Love. Gives out the plot, doesn't it?) 


	8. GX500

(Yay, I finally got the damn chapter done. This was supposed to be done already yesterday, but wouldn't you know it, I shut off Word accidentally and didn't save the end part. Well, I got it done today, so be happy. Now, onwards to the reviews!  
  
Raider: Yeah, well, since I haven't played OF, I'm not really going to be having any Black Ops in the story. It's a shame, they seem so cool. Well, thanks again for liking it!  
  
Blizrun: Yeah, they're pretty much a team now. I'd normally be surprised how you figured that, but it's so easy to figure it this time round. Although I'd consider it an uneasy truce. Oh, and yeah, I visited PoV's pages. It seems damn cool. Too bad good ol' Xonxth isn't a rebel slave =).  
  
Jason Storm: Yep, I've been doing that the whole time, so no worries! =)  
  
Well, now that those are done, let's just get on with the chapter, eh? This one proves to be rather interesting, at least in my point of view.)  
  
Chapter 7: GX-500  
  
Another slave fell to the bullets from Major Hickory's SAW machine gun. The aliens seemed to especially like to barrage the dam with their attacks, and Dam Team had their hands full of work to do. Not only where the aliens fighting them, but also some of the slaves had betrayed their kin, and were also fighting everyone they could find. And to top it off, Russian communists were also proving to be quite an adversary.  
  
Finally, the latest wave of aliens fell to the ground, groaning in front of Dam Team. No longer did the marines cheer their victory, for they had realized that this was an unbeatable battle.  
  
Hickory sat down to rest and stared at their ammunition. They were running low, and new shipments of ammo came less frequently now that Patrol Team's osprey had been dropped. It was starting to be time to pull out and commence air strikes.  
  
-----  
  
"Shit that thing's big!" Dylan yelled as he caught up with Adam and Gordon. He grabbed hold of the operation table that Adam was pushing, and they started to go faster now that two people were pushing.  
  
Dylan quickly turned to look at the monster which had noticed them and now ran after them. The beast stood over all aliens, probably most animals on Earth too. The thing was covered with a blue chitinous skin, and it's arms were like tree trunks. It's hands ended in stumps, which seemed to open and close as the gargantuan ran after them.  
  
Yes, gargantuan. That was what Gordon had called it, and it described the gigantic monstrosity quite well.  
  
"Damn, a building!" Adam cursed as they ran up to a wall. This didn't bother Dylan as much as the fact that they were going away from the nuclear silo, away from their group mates. The building still stood as an obstacle, and the gargantuan was coming closer.  
  
"I'm going this way!" Gordon called running to the right side. "You find some other way, and we'll confuse it!"  
  
"Umm... there!" Dylan pointed at a crack in the wall, and the two marines ran at it. They twisted the operation table on it's side so it would fit through, and then ran in along with it. Inside, they breathed a sigh of relief and checked that Greshwald was all right on the table. The fainted soldier seemed to be okay, so they continued through the building.  
  
The house was quiet. Bodies lay scattered among the corridor, both humans and aliens. It had been a massive battle. And neither side seemed victorious. They came to a door on the other side of the building, and went through. There, they stopped to rest. Soon, Gordon Freeman came around the corner of the building.  
  
"Ah, you're still alive," Gordon said as he came to a stop. "I believe we fooled the gargantuan. He was surprised how it's prey split in separate directions, and stopped to wonder what to do. He's not one of the smarter of the aliens."  
  
"I don't think he needs to be smart, he'll kill everything he can even without brains," Dylan said, and pointed towards a rock. "Let's go behind that rock to rest, so we'll be in cover."  
  
They walked behind the rock and there they slumped down to rest from that vigorous rush. Just now Dylan realized he was with Gordon Freeman, their third objective. Yet, he had the feeling that Gordon was their savior in this ordeal, and vice versa.  
  
"Ugh..." Greshwald groaned on the table and looked up at the marines. "Dylan... what's... what's going on?" he asked in a weak voice.  
  
"Nothing, Greshwald," Dylan said sympathetically. "You just keep sleeping, we're all gonna make it out of here." Greshwald nodded and quickly fell unconscious again.  
  
"You truly care for him?" Gordon asked Dylan. "Surprising. After seeing what you're kind has done, that is rather unexpected."  
  
"Hey, I've got feelings, you know," Dylan angrily said to Freeman.  
  
"And where were they when you killed those innocent scientists?" Freeman questioned.  
  
"Hey, back off. I've had enough bloodshed in my life already," Dylan pointed, the thought of his brother dying filling his mind.  
  
"His brother was brutally killed when he was young," Adam explained to Gordon.  
  
"Then you of all people should understand the cruelty in killing those scientists" Gordon answered back to Dylan.  
  
"Okay, listen, I didn't like killing those scientists in the garage, but it's their fault this all happened!"  
  
"And you're punishing them by killing them?" Gordon continued to inquire. Dylan couldn't find any way to answer this without make himself seem like scum of the earth, but soon he didn't need to, as a massive explosion shook the ground.  
  
"The Hell?" Adam said as they peered behind the rock they were hiding behind. The building they had ran through seemed to crumble apart, and the wall burst open to a searing jet of flame. From this utter devastation, the gargantuan stepped through, spraying fire from it's piston-like hands.  
  
"Guys? Run!" Adam called and turned to run down the road, pushing Greshwald along with him. Dylan stopped for a moment to watch the beast, but quickly turned to join Adam and Gordon as the gargantuan kicked the ground, causing a strange red shot of plasma to fly at him. He kept running, heard a thunderous boom, and watched as the rock they had been hiding behind flew over his head and fell next to him.  
  
The small group rounded the corner of the small path they were on, and almost immediately crashed into a group of drones. Dylan and Adam started to fire as fast as they could, since their stalker wasn't far away. Gordon stuck his shotgun into his suit and pulled out a Magnum. Dylan watched, intrigued, as the suit literally seemed to meld with the weapon, pulling it in, and spitting out the smaller yet just as deadly gun. Gordon joined the marines in firing on the drones, and soon triumphed.  
  
Then the gargantuan came around the bend and roared to the sky in anger. Adam swallowed hard and the three continued running down the path. Fortune was on their side slightly as the small path winded around the cliff.  
  
Dylan ran frantically, but stopped as he heard a thump and a moan. He turned to see Gordon had tripped on a rock on the ground. The two looked at each other for a split second. Here Dylan was, in front the military's most annoying pest in Black Mesa. He could kill the man and earn massive merits in the army. Dylan thought this over for a second, and Gordon could already feel his death coming.  
  
But, to his surprise, Dylan grabbed Gordon's hand and pulled him up. The scientist stared in surprise, but then continued running from the gargantuan. They ran around yet another bend, but then came to a dead end.  
  
A concrete wall blocked the path. A ladder climbed up the wall, but they wouldn't be able to climb it fast enough to escape the gargantuan. The beast came round the bend and growled, seeing it's enemies trapped. It ran at them, causing massive craters in the sand with every step.  
  
"I've got it," Gordon snapped his fingers and ran over to a barrel on the side of the wall. He stuck his Magnum away and took out a regular old crowbar. Then he ripped the top of the barrel open. The barrel was full of black, murky liquid.  
  
"Oil," Gordon said and grabbed the barrel. "Help me with this!" he called to Adam and Dylan, and the two grabbed hold of the barrel and hoisted it up.  
  
"When he attacks, throw the stuff at him," Gordon explained, and they turned towards their massive enemy. Dylan trembled in fear at their madness. The thing would kill them and they just stood there. The gargantuan came to a halt and lifted it's arms up. The hands lit up and sprayed fire at it's enemies.  
  
But instead of hitting them, the flames struck into a flying wall of oil. The liquid immediately lighted and smashed into the gargantuan, covering it with fire. The monster soon caught on fire, and fell to the ground. It writhed in pain as the flames licked every nook of it's body, and finally fell silent. The three fighters sighed with relief over the smoldering corpse.  
  
Now less pressured, they began the climb up the wall. Gordon climbed up the wall, then Adam and Dylan lifted the operation table carrying Greshwald on their backs. They lifted it up to Gordon, who strained to pull it onto the roof. Then the marines climbed up and they rested for a second.  
  
They were on a roof of a building. One elevator was the only interesting thing on the roof, the rest was just concrete.  
  
"Back there, when the gargantuan chased us," Gordon said to Dylan, "you saved my life. I'm the military's number one enemy in Black Mesa, and still you rescued me."  
  
"Yeah, well, your words back there made me think," Dylan explained. "After my brother had been killed, I decided to avoid fighting, especially fighting innocents. But now I realized I've damned myself. Those scientists didn't deserve it, and still I gave it to them. Might as well try to make up and help out the survivors, like you."  
  
"I can see your place isn't here," Gordon looked away. "A good soul dragged into this hellhole. You shouldn't have experienced this. Then again, none of us should have experienced this."  
  
"I hate to break your touching conversation," a thick voice said behind them, "but hands up! And no American monkey business!"  
  
They all jumped up with their hands in the air and turned to look. Dimitri stood there with a full platoon of his soldiers. Dimitri pointed at them with an assault rifle he had ransacked from the marines while one of his men did a short investigation of the rooftop.  
  
"It's empty, Dimitri," the soldier said to his leader. "There's nothing here to collect for Arkadi."  
  
"Bah," Dimitri scoffed. "What a waste of time. Oh well, waste those Americans, we'll continue scouring the other buildings." Saying this, all his men lifted their guns, ready to fire.  
  
"Wait!" Dylan called. He half stalled them, and half really wanted to know the truth. "This has been so pointless from the beginning! I can't understand why the Hell you're all here! Please, before you kill me, you've got to tell me why you're here."  
  
Dimitri stared at Dylan for a moment, scratching his chin, then shrugged. "Heh, you'll be dying soon anyway, it won't hurt to tell. Plus, it'll be such a pleasure to see you know the threat to your country and not be able to stop it!"  
  
"Mr. Renko is an old, old man," Dimitri began. "Not very many people who served the U.S.S.R have lived to this day. Mr. Renko is very communistic, and has a deep hate towards you capitalists. His last wish before passing away is to see the U.S.A burn. That is where I come in!"  
  
"I am Dimitri Eshtelkov from Serbia, leader of Baba Yaga, one of the finest groups of mercenaries in all of Eurasia!" Dimitri ranted as he walked back and forth in front Dylan, Adam and Gordon. "Mr. Renko has decided to gather a supreme arsenal to destroy your country with. The Administrator and his superiors owned a great debt to the Soviet Union. I have no idea what kind of debt they could hold, and Arkadi would not supply any more info. But the Administrator paid the debt off by telling surviving members of the Union of the upcoming Black Mesa Research Facility, specializing in all forms of science, including weapons research. Such knowledge was told to have never been given out so publicly."  
  
"Using this valuable information, Arkadi has spied on the facility for the last 5 years. He learned that a catastrophe could be occurring any day now. He employed Baba Yaga to raid the facility and take back with them anything suitable for revolution. Military weaponry, nuclear substances, viral diseases, we'll take it all! After gathering sufficient amounts, Baba Yaga will withdraw and deliver our spoils of war to Arkadi. Then, he shall enlist ALL mercenary groups in Russia, supply them with our catch, and storm the U.S.A! You will all burn!" Dimitri cackled maniacally at this revelation.  
  
Now Dylan started to understand. The Russians finally started to make sense. But new questions sprang up. Who was the Administrator? What debt did he have with one of the greatest enemies of America?  
  
"Now, I've fulfilled my part of the deal," Dimitri grinned towards Dylan. "It's about time you fulfill yours. READY!" he called. The relaxed mercs once again pulled their guns up. "SET!" The soldiers started to pull on the triggers. Dylan swallowed hard.  
  
BOOM!  
  
Dimitri hollered something wildly in Russian as the roof quaked. Dylan seized this opportunity and knocked out Baba Yaga's leader. Adam fired on the other mercs, and Gordon joined, protecting Greshwald at the same time.  
  
"AIEEEEEE!" Dimitri called getting up and ran for the elevator. Cracks appeared on the roof. A Russian looked down and in horror saw as a huge blue hand cracked through the roof under him, and his leg went deep into the hole in the hand. He let out a short yell, but was blasted into the sky in a jet of flame. His burning leg landed next to Dylan, while the dead burning body fell on it's living companions, causing havoc.  
  
Dylan, Adam and Gordon started to step away as the roof burst open in the wake of the gargantuan. The monster had survived the wall of fire, and now hunted it's attackers, no longer for the thrill, now only for vengeance. Russians fell through the hole and were soon crushed by the gargantuan's feet. Dylan took this moment to get Greshwald, and then ran towards the other side of the roof, for the elevator. Adam and Gordon soon joined him, but the gargantuan quickly ran out of Russians to slaughter and turned it's malice towards it's original prey. The smell of propane filled the air as the flames licked the men's legs.  
  
Dylan pushed Grsehwald in and dived into the elevator and pressed the button frantically. Adam and Gordon jumped in just as the bars closed and the elevator jutted into motion. The machine slowly lowered, and opened into one of the numerous garages of Black Mesa. The gargantuan was standing in front of a hole in the wall that it had blown, and now stopped staring through the gap in the roof and stared at it's enemies.  
  
"Quick! We've got to use something to fight it!" Gordon called and ran to the side of the room, joined by the marines, as the flame throwers lit up. Dylan dropped to the ground as flames flew over him. He looked up to watch the flames, but as they died out, he saw probably the best weapon in the room to fight the gargantuan with.  
  
"Guys! Help me swing this!" he called grabbing a massive hook hanging from a chain in the roof. The others realized his plan and they all grabbed the chain. Aiming for the monster, they pulled back and let go.  
  
The gargantuan roared again and began to fire more flames, when the hook swung into it and hooked it's jaw. Whining horribly, the gargantuan continued moving backwards with the hook, until the hook came to a halt, and the gargantuan fell off. No soft landing was waiting him, instead he landed on a parked Jeep.  
  
The room filled with an explosion as the Jeep erupted to pieces. Dylan covered his face as shrapnel flew past them. Opening his eyes, he saw their enemy laying in the burning pile of metal that used to be a Jeep.  
  
"Thank god, we survived it," Gordon sighed and they all walked away, Greshwald in tow, through the hole in the wall, hoping to get back where they had come from. Yet immediately they stepped backwards at the sight.  
  
Dimitri was far from giving up. Now with a new platoon, complete with a Panzer tank, he had come back to take out the gargantuan once and for all. Of course, he might as well kill the Americans while at it. Angrily, he yelled in Russian and pointed at the men.  
  
"Why that son of a..." Dylan didn't get a chance to talk as the tank fired at them. They retreated back into the room, and ran for a door on the other side.  
  
-----  
  
"All teams begin pulling out! Air strikes will commence in 15 minutes! Whoever stays, stays for good! I repeat, all teams pull out, air strikes will commence in 15 minutes!"  
  
The call ran in all radios. Major Hickory sighed with relief. Finally, they'd leave this godforsaken place, and let the air strikes do their job. He signaled to move out, and the remainder of Dam Team started to move through the gate and to the nearest heliport.  
  
Not soon had they got out when a group of Hummers armed by aliens appeared, followed by infantry.  
  
"Motherfucker," Hickory cursed as their way out was blocked. Disappointed, they began to retreat back onto the dam. He hoped they'd kill the aliens before time ran out. It'd be a pain to have an air strike fall on your back.  
  
-----  
  
Dylan forced the operation table through the small door on the house's other side as another tank shot blew close to him. Finally he got through and turned to stare back at the house. The area here was a mixed cluster of small mountains and buildings. Dylan looked to the other side of the small street. A building what looked like a canteen stood there. Right next to the house they had come through was a pile of rubble, and a fallen Apache on top of it...  
  
"Holy shit!" Dylan exclaimed. "That's the Apache that I came on!" he pointed. This was the first battle site with the tentacle, the beginning of Dylan's horror known as Black Mesa.  
  
"That's cute," Adam remarked, "but we haven't got time for that!"  
  
The first Russian ran through the door, but was briefly met with fire. The first few mercs did the same mistake, but soon learned to be careful and hid behind the walls. At that moment, a Hummer drove down the road to the side. Dylan turned his attention to it, in fear of it being alien infested, but instead a scientist climbed up.  
  
"Greetings Mr. Freeman," the scientist greeted. "Are you looking for the Lambda sector. It isn't too far from... look out! Marines!" he suddenly yelled and began to man the gun.  
  
"Wait!" Gordon waved. "These marines are different. They actually have the ability to think clearly for once! They've helped me out against the gargantuan. The real enemy are those Russians coming out of that building." Saying this, he deftly picked out a Russian peering through the door.  
  
"Of course, Mr. Freeman," the scientist nodded. "We'll help you out."  
  
The wall burst open from a tanks hot and Russians poured out to fight. The scientist began to empty the Hummer's gun, while Dylan, Adam and Gordon started to run at them, firing them down one by one.  
  
They all took a lot of hits, until the bullets started to go through Dylan's armor. Dylan would have to remember to find some medication after the battle. But with each bullet taken, a Russian fell dead. After a short while, the Russians began to turn away. Dylan thought they had given up, but they only made room for the tank to burst through. Chunks of concrete flew around as the iron hulk moved at them.  
  
"I know how to deal with these," Gordon said and ran at the tank, diving to the side as he was fired upon. Dylan and Adam retreated behind the Hummer with Greshwald, while Gordon fought the tank.  
  
"Here, let me help you with that," the scientist said and gave some medicine to the two marines. Dylan immediately felt better and turned to watch Gordon's battle. The scientist sneaked right under the tank's turret, so it couldn't shoot him. He then jumped onto it and pulled the hatch open. Dylan heard some screams which were silenced as Gordon fired into the machine.  
  
"Mr. Freeman," the scientist began explaining after Freeman had climbed down, "while we'd like to help you out to get to the Lambda complex, I'm afraid my colleagues have decided leave Black mesa as soon as possible. Nothing personal, of course."  
  
"Yes, you do that. I can find the complex myself," Gordon agreed, and the Hummer started to drive away, towards the chain-link fences barely visible in the horizon. The three survivors watched them for a moment, but were interrupted by a deafening roar coming from the building. The gargantuan reared it's head through the roof, only to have the whole building fall on it.  
  
"Shit! We gotta hurry outta here!" Dylan said. The building probably wasn't enough to take out the gargantuan.  
  
"Gentlemen, I believe I have our answer right here;" Gordon grinned, patting on the Panzer tank.. Adam and Dylan grinned and started heaving the dead bodies out of the tank. They then stuck the operation table inside and went in themselves. It was extremely cramped with the table inside, so Dylan stood and scouted from the top of the turret.  
  
"Do you know how to drive this?" Gordon asked as he studied the controls.  
  
"Nope, I guess we'll have to learn to drive the thing," Adam said and pulled on the switches. The tank started to move in all kinds of directions.  
  
"I get it!" Gordon explained to Adam, who wasn't sure how it worked. "These switches move each tread. When pushed together they move forward."  
  
"Well you better turn right, and quick!" Dylan yelled down as the gargantuan climbed from the rubble, not in a good mood. The tank immediately started speeding away at a steady pace down the road Dylan had gone earlier. There were some bullsquids on the way, but the tank drove over them. The gargantuan was the only real danger right now.  
  
"Gordon, can you turn the cannon?!" Dylan yelled as the gargantuan started to get closer.  
  
"Umm... I think so... here we go!" Gordon called and the turret swiveled to face the menace. "Uhh... a slight problem... I haven't the slightest clue how you shoot with this!"  
  
"Dammit! Fine, let me do it!" Dylan cursed and fired an MP5 grenade at the chasing monster. He frantically looked forwards, then got an idea. "Hey, Adam, there's an alcove to the right! Go there! I'll stall the gargantuan!"  
  
The tank started to turn to the right while Dylan fired grenade after grenade at the monster, until he ran out. The gargantuan tripped on the ground and started to stand up again. Then the tank hid in the small street.  
  
"When I tell you, go at full speed and turn back the way we were going," Dylan explained.  
  
"You mean you can change the speed on this thing?" Adam asked peering up, but painfully banged his head on the operation table.  
  
"Never mind, just GO GO GO!!!" Dylan screamed as the gargantuan's silhouette blocked the light from coming into the alcove.  
  
The gargantuan roared and lifted it's pistons to fire, only to have the wind knocked out of it as the tank crashed into it. The tank started to turn back they way it had been going, but Adam noticed it moved slower than before.  
  
"Dylan, why's this thing going so slowly? That thing's gonna catch up on us!" Adam complained. Dylan, however couldn't answer as he stared face to face at the gargantuan. It didn't need to do any catching up: the cannon was safely lodged in it's stomach. The monster roared angrily and lifted one of it's arms to in front of Dylan.  
  
"SHIT!" Dylan exclaimed and dived into the tank, closing the hatch just as flames erupted. He tried to open it again, but the hatch was hot to the touch.  
  
"I can't see where were going!" Adam screamed. Sure, there was a small window, but it was blocked by gargantuan skin. So the went on, hoping the monster would drop off, until they came to a complete halt. They heard one massive roar, and then all became quiet. Dylan peeked outside, and found the sight quite appalling.  
  
They had crashed into the mountainside. The turret had gone straight through the gargantuan's body. The defeated monster moaned quietly.  
  
"Hey, move back a little," Dylan said. The tank moved backwards, and the gargantuan, lubricated with it's own blood, slid off and fell on the ground. Almost immediately it came to it's senses and climbed up.  
  
"You're fucking kidding me!" Dylan spat at the alien, who once again lifted it's arms to shoot flames. But suddenly, an explosion was heard, and the gargantuan stopped dead in it's tracks. A tank shot had gone straight into it's side. It stood dumbfounded for a moment, then collapsed on it's back.  
  
"Who shot that?" Dylan asked, but didn't have to wonder long as a modern military tank came from a side road. Dylan started to greet them, but stopped when the hatch opened. A clawed hand pushed the seal open and an alien slave climbed up. It stared for a moment, then called something down into the tank and went back down. The tank started driving at Dylan's tank, it's turret turning towards them.  
  
-----  
  
Meanwhile in his comfy office, the Administrator sat in his armchair, staring into the security cameras. He chuckled lightly as he watched the alien tank driving towards Dylan. He then switched the view to watch the new interest, Adrian Shepard. There were so many choices to choose from; who would he employ? Freeman had proven to be a fine candidate, but then, what about this marine, Dylan Henderson. And yet there was still the choice of that security guard, Michael Anderson. That stunt on the Hummer had really gathered the Administrator's attention. And what about the Mr. Shepard? He'd have to prove himself first.  
  
"S-s-s-s-so many to choose from, yet only one will be the winner," the Administrator laughed with his sneaky voice as he continued switching the security cameras. "Ahh, but there's s-s-s-still the final test, the grand finale," he hissed as the camera switched again. This time though, it wasn't any place in Black Mesa, instead it was the government's hidden missile bunker in Arizona. He couldn't help but grin as the camera viewed rows upon rows of Tomahawk missiles, all ready to be fired at Black Mesa with the touch of a button.  
  
And the Administrator had that button.  
  
( Well, next chapter will involve (hopefully) as much action as this one. Oh, and sorry, Raider, for mentioning Michael in the story, but I was starting to run out of characters to be possible workers for the G-man. Hope you don't mind! Of course, we all know he employs good ol' Gordon.  
  
Oh, and I'm not going to elaborate on the debt that the G-man had with the Soviet Union. Possibly, if there's enough interested people, I'll write a sort-of prequel to explain the G-man's debt better.) 


	9. Tank War

(Well after a while, I actually got this chapter done. I would have gotten it done earlier, but I had to go camping for a week. Bummer. Well, let's check out the reviews.  
  
zUg mAh oAtaX: Sorry I forgot your review in the last chapter! I had already uploaded the chapter when you sent the review! I thanked the headcrab for you, and he replied by trying to chew my brains. This is why I always have a 1000-page dictionary nearby, so I can bash headcrabs.  
  
Blizrun: Thanks once again! I'll have to fix the G-Man's lisp some time. But I just can't be bothered right now. And yes, in fact I just began Opposing Force yesterday. My friend borrowed it from his friend, but he doesn't have a computer, so we played it at my place. We got all the way to Crush Depth! Damn those Black Ops are tricky.  
  
Jason Storm: Thanks man!  
  
Sonicfish (Jon): Yeah, I lied. But you gotta admit it wouldn't have been nearly as fun if you knew it was coming, right? Ah well, thanks for the support!  
  
Björn: Thanks man, I hope you'll enjoy the chapter.  
  
Okay, so let's get on. Just to make the story more easier to read, Dylan's, Adam's and Gordon's tank will be referred to as the Panzer, and the aliens' tank will be the Abrams. I at least think the big green tanks in the game are Abrams. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.)  
  
Chapter 8: Tank War  
  
The slave leader walked alongside one of the mountains with his small group. His other followers were spread out among Black Mesa. He traveled along with his group of bodyguards that he had assembled. In truth, he had only picked out those who had found a military helmet to join him, thinking that they'd survive head shots better.  
  
The leader's eyes turned to a sniper rifle aiming from a building. Before the sniper could act, the leader launched a grenade in the building, instantly killing him. He turned to follow his group, when he heard a voice. "Come. come."  
  
Curiously the leader walked through a doorway into the building, following the voice. He came to a hallway, and at the end, the speaker floated, awaiting the leader.  
  
"I should have known the Nihilanth would send his controller minions to stop me at some point," the leader hissed at the alien controller, the Nihilanth's closest servants. The small humanoid figure sat in the air, the eyes of it's massive heads fixing onto the slave.  
  
"You've put on quite a show here. Lord Nihilanth would be proud of you, but he does not tolerate your behavior against him," the controller spoke.  
  
"I no longer praise your defiler lord. This world is ripe for a new beginning. Tell me, is it truly so bad here that your kind has been sent to battle?" the slave said, lowering his rifle down.  
  
"No, such a situation has never appeared, not before lord Nihilanth or the one lord before him. My kind has been sent to stop your mad campaign. I ask you once, and only once, to return back to the lord's side," the controller smirked. As he said this, his hands started to glow a worm orange.  
  
The leader raised an eyebrow for a moment. A ruler before the Nihilanth? Did this mean that his old lord had not been the creator of the alien world Xen? But it didn't matter anymore now that he was free on Earth. "I am sorry, but you cannot stop me. This is the dawn of a new era for my brethren, and I swear, not you or all your drones can stop my crusade," the leader angrily waved his hand.  
  
"A pity. Lord Nihilanth won't be pleased with this."  
  
"DAMN THE NIHILANTH!" the leader yelled, enraged. "Damn you all! You cause no good for my kind, and I will cause no good for you!"  
  
"Your choice is made, slave. It's time to pay for it," the controller shook his head and started floating higher. The orange glow started to grow greater, and a pair of fireballs appeared in his hands.  
  
"As the humans say," the leader said lifting his rifle, "bring it."  
  
-----  
  
"Jesus! This thing must be 50 years older than that!" Dylan screamed down as the alien tank drove towards them. "We'll never stand up against it!"  
  
"Then we better get outta here and fast!" Adam screamed back and started pushing on the levers. The Panzer tank started to move away from the Abrams one, which closely followed. The turret on the Abrams swiveled to aim at the Panzer.  
  
"Hey, go for that alley! It leads to open ground! We might live longer there," Dylan pointed at the familiar alley. It lead to the battleground with the tentacles, and it would serve as a battleground again. The Panzer squeezed into the tight corridor, just as the Abrams fired a shot into one of the buildings. Dylan ducked inside as rubble fell down behind their tank. Through this concrete the Abrams coolly waded through, the slaves inside loading another missile.  
  
"Gordon, if we're gonna live, you have GOT to figure out how that cannon works!" Dylan said to the scientist and then climbed back up to stare at their chaser. They appeared into the courtyard with the radio mast. The Panzer started to circle around the yard with the Abrams close behind, driving over both pavement and the rubble of the collapsed rail system.  
  
"All right, I'll try and figure how to fire," Gordon nodded and started pressing the buttons. The tank didn't react at first, then came to a full halt.  
  
"NO! NOT THE BRAKES!!!" Dylan exclaimed in horror as the Abrams crashed into the Panzer. Dylan leaned backwards as the cannon was merely inches away from his face.  
  
"Sorry!" Gordon yelled back as Adam pushed on the switches with all his might. The Abrams fired just as the Panzer turned away and started to continue circling the courtyard. The two tanks spun around the courtyard for a while. The turret accidentally turned to point to the center.  
  
"Whoops, that's the cannon's turn button," Gordon called. "No... wait... god, how could I have been an idiot! The fire button is between the directional buttons!" Just to test it out, he pressed the button, and the cannon fired... into the radio mast. Both tanks stopped to stare as the huge tower twisted and toppled down between them. Now safe from the Abrams' cannon, the Panzer started to drive away while the more modern tank started to detour around the fallen tower.  
  
Before the Abrams could take a good shot, the Panzer drove through the wall into a building. This new house was some kind of recreational place, with stairs leading to the second floor.  
  
"Adam, I think we can fit up the stairs. It's risky, but we'll be safe from those aliens," Dylan said. Adam swallowed hard and started slowly driving the tank up the stairs.  
  
-----  
  
The three aliens inside the Abrams all climbed out to watch, one of them ready to dive for the controls. They stared quietly at the building, waiting for the tank to come out, when their attention was drawn to a mad scream. A nearby building's window shattered to pieces as the slave leader crashed through, beating the body of the controller. The two crashed on the ground, and the leader twisted the huge head of the controller until his neck broke.  
  
"Sir!" one of the aliens in the Abrams called. "Do you need help?"  
  
"No, I'm fine," the leader said. "What are you doing here with that goliath?" he asked pointing at the tank.  
  
"We're hunting some humans. The fools have a goliath of their own, but don't know how to properly operate it."  
  
"Really?" the leader asked, interested. "Then I will join you. Just a moment." He then pulled the radio he had tied around his waist and called the leader of his bodyguard. "Hello? Yes, I'm alive, and fine. Look, you head for that huge construction that keeps the water at bay. I will join you later. I have other business."  
  
-----  
  
The second floor had a bar and a snooker table. This was one of the places for off-suty personnel to rest after a hard day. Dylan used the opportunity to take a drink of beer to calm his nerves down. He didn't normally drink, but with a crazed Abrams tank chasing you, you'd probably need something harder too.  
  
"Look... Dylan," Gordon fought to remember the name, "you're in the army. You have more experience in warfare than I do. What are we going to do? Driving down and out is suicide, but there's no other way out."  
  
"Gordon, I only joined the army a little while ago. I haven't dealt with any real situation yet," Dylan shrugged. "Gordon, remember when Dimitri mentioned someone called the Administrator? Who's he?" he asked, trying to change the subject from their predicament.  
  
"The Administrator's the one who funded the research project. I've seen him walking around with a suitcase. He keeps appearing and leaving to a place where there's no exit. I think he's been watching me, and that gives me the creeps," Gordon shivered.  
  
This new fact made things even more confusing. The same person who had funded the project which lead the aliens to Earth had once made a deal with the Soviet Union? How could someone do such a thing? And was he truly watching Gordon? Dylan gave up thinking and decided to concentrate on getting out.  
  
"Hey, I think there is one way out..." Dylan said as his eyes stared at the wall overlooking the courtyard. The whole wall was one large window.  
  
"Great," Gordon shook his head, "more ways to do suicide."  
  
-----  
  
The leader fitted himself into the hatch and stopped to stare at the building.  
  
"I can hear engines running in there," he said to the slaves in the tank. "Get ready to fire..!" He was interupted with a glass shard flying from the second floor and landing in his back. He hissed in pain, but looked up. For one moment, he thought the Nihilanth himself had come to pay back.  
  
"HOOOOOLYYYYYY SHIIIIIIIITTT!" Dylan screamed as he stood in the tank, which smashed through the window and plummeted down. The slave leader yelped and dived into the Abrams as the Panzer literally fell on top of the other tank. Dylan bounced out of the tank as it crashed and fell onto the Abrams. The leader peeked out of the hatch after pulling the shard out, and Dylan smashed his fist into the alien's face. The leader withdrew again, and Dylan climbed back in the Panzer. The Nazi tank started backing up and driving off.  
  
"There!" Dylan pointed. "There's a tunnel in the mountainside! Head for it!" Adam nodded and the tank drove towards it, smashing through the gate and into the cliff. The Abrams came to it's senses and drove after the older tank, but it's cannon was twisted out of use due to fallen Panzer, and the tank itself was heavily dented, a feat hard to do to a tank.  
  
-----  
  
A Russian sniper watched as the two tanks drove at the mountain. He chuckled as he lifted a ransacked crossbow with explosive bolts. He'd fire the treads to shreds and move in on the kill. He deftly lifted the crossbow and took aim...  
  
"AAAARGH!!!"  
  
The sniper turned in surprise to stare at the cry. He only saw one blue, massive hand, then his vision and life were obscured by flames.  
  
-----  
  
Dylan couldn't see where they were going. The tunnel was pitch black. The lights had probably gone out, but it was only an advantage. The chasing Abrams couldn't see where to attack in the dark, so they were temporarily safe. He could only feel that the path was heavily sloping upwards.  
  
Just to check things out, Dylan fired with his rifle a few times behind them. At first he could hear them hitting something, but soon it quieted. He wondered what was wrong.  
  
Meanwhile the leader used his radio to call one of the few Apaches they had stolen. "We are nearing the flat ground where the humans' metal birds rise from. The first tank to appear through the mountain is your target."  
  
"We will take care of it," the answer rang. The leader smiled slightly, but then gaped in horror as they climbed out. The two tanks had switched positions as they had driven, and now HIS tank was at the front.  
  
Dylan stared at this too, then turned to look as an Apache flew over the mountain and let loose it's payload of missiles. Both tanks started to veer to the side as the road was blasted to pieces. "NONONO! Correction! The second tank to come out is the target!" The leader hastily screamed, and the Apache started to turn towards the Panzer.  
  
Dylan coughed in the dust that spread from the explosions, but as the dust went away, he saw the huge Greek letter 'lambda' in the building.  
  
"Gordon! It's the lambda complex! That's where you tried to get to! Get out and save yourself!" Dylan yelled into the tank.  
  
"But you can't hope to beat them! Come with me, we'll stop this together!" Gordon yelled back.  
  
"Nah," Dylan said as he pulled out the scientist, "I've got my team to catch. Besides, I'm the one who's been bad today. If one of us has to live, it's you. Now go!"  
  
Gordon stared in horror at Dylan's madness, then nodded. "All right. But I think you've already paid for what you did to those scientists by helping me. But, I can't make you change your mind. Good luck, Dylan. Remember to try to do good."  
  
"Will do, Gordon. Good luck in there," Dylan nodded. The scientist climbed out and ran for the lambda complex. Dylan sighed heavily and climbed into the tank to replace Gordon, maneuvering around the operation table. He then stared through the small window as the Apache and tank drove at them.  
  
All of a sudden, the helicopter veered to the side. Dylan stared in surprise, then saw a squadron of bombers fly over the area, bombing the place.  
  
"Oh my god, Dylan!" Adam yelled. "They've begun the air strikes! We're sitting ducks here!" Just as he said this, a bomb fell in front of the Panzer, pushing it backwards.  
  
"We've got to get outta here! Move!" Dylan ordered. The tank started to move away , air strikes falling all around it. Dylan turned the cannon, searching for the Abrams tank. The Panzer finally came out of the haze of dust and onto a heliport. A huge group of marines were making a stand there, firing at drones that were coming from a passageway underground.  
  
"Dylan, look!" Adam called. "It's staff sergeant Beckinghill! It's Rail Team! We have to help them out-"  
  
"Adam, back!" Dylan screamed. As a reflex, Adam pulled backwards, just as the whole heliport was bombed. Adam gaped in horror. Marines ran around in flames while some laid dead. Some dived into the rail system, but the passageway collapsed, entombing everyone inside.  
  
"No... no... NO!!!" Adam screamed. "All my friends from Rail Team! All OF Rail Team! Those bastards!" he yelled climbing out and shaking his fist at the flying bombers.  
  
"Adam, get down, dammit! You'll kill us all!" Dylan yelled, trying to pull him back. As the dust from the previous road begun to clear, the silhouette of the Abrams appeared.  
  
"What do you mean us all, Dylan? We're the only ones left! Those were my friends! You hear me?!" he turned back to the sky. "You come down here and fight like a man, you wimps! I'll make you all pay!"  
  
"Adam, I'm only doing this for your own good," Dylan said, then knocked out Adam with his fist. He then grabbed the controls and began to drive through the mangled heliport with the Abrams close by. The two tanks drove through the heliport and into a small street between a few buildings. The Panzer drove up onto a ramp going next to the right building while the Abrams continued driving on the street.  
  
Dylan thought he was safe above the Abrams, but the aliens began to spin the turret. The cannon, though twisted beyond usage, easily battered the treads of the older tank. Dylan veered into the building, and the Panzer crashed through the wall.  
  
A bunch of scientists fighting Russians stared in surprise as the tank drove through the wall. The Russians were just as surprised and both groups began to comically scurry. Dylan would have laughed at how silly they all looked, but his attention was drawn as the roof collapsed nearby from another air strike. He began to drive through the few walls and appeared on the other side.  
  
Immediately Dylan slammed on the brakes as the Panzer nearly fell over the cliff-side and to the bottom of the dried river. The dam was far to the right of the tank, and Dylan realized there were marines on top of it. He climbed out and pulled out his binoculars. Almost immediately his eyes set on none other than good old lieutenant Manners.  
  
"Yes!" Dylan cheered. He only had to find a way to drive to the dam and he'd be home free. Now refreshed with the thought of victory, he backed the Panzer up and started to drive along the cliff. But he had hardly gone a few yards when the bomber came over the few rocks and flew straight at the Panzer, dropping it's payload all the way. Dylan swallowed hard: there was no way he could dodge the oncoming bomber. Then the alien Apache flew over the building and the bomber had to fly to the side.  
  
Dylan took the opportunity to drive at full speed towards a mountain blocking his drive. He turned the turret towards a sealed gate in the side and fired at it. The gate shattered to pieces, just as an explosion appeared behind the Panzer. The Abrams drove through the building and continued it's relentless pursuit. Both tanks dived into the gate and drove along the subterranean road. The winding road went through the cliff, and both tanks met little resistance. There were lots of slaves and drones along the path, but whatever got in the Panzer's way regretted it.  
  
A new danger appeared as the roof began to cave in from the air strikes. Dylan watched as slabs of granite fell from the roof and around the tanks. A few rocks hit both steel giants, but both tanks withstood the damage. Finally the Panzer drover into sunlight with the Abrams close behind just as the tunnel collapsed on itself. Dylan sighed with relief, but not for long. The slaves just wouldn't give up!  
  
The panzer crashed through a chain link fence into a parking lot. Once this place had been filled with employee vehicles, but now the military's trucks had taken over the spaces. Yet again a bomber came over the sky and begun to drop it's shipment. A few trucks blew up into pieces or flipped in the air. Some marines, still living, ran out of a fallen truck ablaze. Dylan began to hate the bombers more and more after this vile act. This hate grew greater as an explosion by the side blew another truck into the air. The huge vehicle's parts fell on the Panzer, knocking the cannon to pieces. Now both tanks were unarmed.  
  
Except the slave leader still had an ace in his sleeve: his Apache, or rather Apaches. He had found three more of the metallic birds, and although only one was in the area, it's missiles were enough to stop the Panzer. As if it knew it was needed, the Apache flew over a concrete wall to the side and began to fire missiles down at Dylan's tank.  
  
Dylan drove through the parking lot and down the road, dodging the missile fire. He appeared at what he assumed was the front door of Black Mesa. This was a good sign; the dam was only a short drive away. But would he survive to the dam amidst the bombings, Apaches, and crazed Abrams? Shrugging, he started to drive down a road to the side of the front door. The Panzer drove into a bunch of sandbag barricades, guarded by an encampment of Russians.  
  
The mercenaries yelled in horror as two tanks and a helicopter came towards them, and began to scurry away. Dylan mercilessly drove through the ranks of mercs; after all, like lieutenant Manners had said, mercy wasn't an option. The Panzer winded from side to side as it dodged the Apaches missile, and finally, after all that Dylan had endured, he came to the dam. He pulled the tank to a full halt and climbed out to stare at the oncoming aliens.  
  
The Abrams, seeing it's prey had stopped, eagerly came on forwards. The Apache tried to join the tank, but the marines' Apache intercepted it. The two began a deadly dogfight above the lake, but Dylan didn't have time to watch as he waited for the Abrams. The leader climbed out and sneered at Dylan.  
  
"You fool, human," he said in his bad English skill. Dylan only grinned.  
  
"No, you fool." Saying this, he dived inside and pressed on reverse. The slave watched in surprise, then screamed in horror as he realized what Dylan was planning. Before he could do anything, the Panzer crashed into the Abrams and pushed it against the dam railing. Dylan cursed as his plan failed: the railing was incredibly sturdy and didn't break when the two tanks crashed into it. Now his only hope was to keep pressing on reverse and hope the Abrams would eventually fall over the side and into it's doom. A tank can take an amazing amount of damage, but not even the Abrams could hope to survive that fall.  
  
Dylan wished he had some extra push, and his pleads were answered to, though he soon regretted it. Both tanks' drivers stared as, after taking an incredible amount of punishment, yet still alive, the gargantuan limped down the road. Dylan couldn't believe it was still alive. It no longer looked as menacing as before. A huge hole went through it's battered body, and one of it's hands barely hung on a strand of flesh. The gargantuan, in it's rage, smashed into the tanks, and began pushing. The tanks began to slowly move backwards and the railing began to twist.  
  
"Aw damn!" Dylan said. Now he too was in danger off falling over the dam. Thinking fast, he left a grenade (pin still on) on the reverse switch to keep it going and began slapping Adam awake. "Wake up, please!"  
  
"Hunh?" Adam asked as he came to consciousness. "What now?"  
  
"Come on, help me lift Greshwald. We're bailing out," Dylan explained and began loosening the straps keeping Greshwald on the table. Adam nodded and the two climbed out with Greshwald just as the railing gave in. All three fighters, the marines, the slaves, and the gargantuan yelped as they suddenly moved rapidly over the edge. Dylan and Adam ran in a hurry along their Panzer and leaped off it just as it went over the edge. Although they had a hard landing on the dam, anything would have been better than dropping 300 feet.  
  
Wearily they watched as the two tanks and the gargantuan plummeted downwards. For such huge objects they seemed to fall rather slowly. The slave leader frantically yelled into his radio, and the Apache responded. In a mad dive, the Apache began a free fall towards the falling objects. Right over the Abrams, it veered towards the cliff and lowered a rope. The leader leaped forwards and clutched the rope just as the tanks smashed onto the rocks and blew up into a deadly inferno. Not so luckily for the screaming gargantuan, it landed straight into the fiery wrecks of the tanks.  
  
The two marines panted heavily, but felt relieved. They had rescued their friend and made it back to their team. Even now lieutenant Manners, eyes wide open in astonishment, ran towards them.  
  
"Hey you two!" he called. "That was one heck of a stunt! Fetch those two some medication, they earned it! You didn't happen to see Freeman on your way, did you?" he asked.  
  
"Nope," Dylan shrugged, "no sign of him. The sucker either died or got away." He really had to fight not to burst in laughter.  
  
-----  
  
Dimitri stirred up from the ground after the Panzer had gone a good distance away. Those American fools had thought they had been able to kill him when they stole the Panzer, yet they were wrong. Dimitri didn't wear a fur coat just to keep himself warm. No, Black Mesa was hot enough already. The coat had a bulletproof vest sowed inside it, along with pouches of fake blood. Dimitri could easily fake his death, and climb up later in almost full health.  
  
He wiped the dust from his sleeve when his mobile phone rang. This time it was a different ringtone, the one he had assigned for this very special caller. The Imperial March from Star Wars. Dimitri thought this tone fit the caller quite well. He hastily pulled the phone out and answered it.  
  
"Good day, sir!" he answered.  
  
"Good day, Dimitri. How is the operation going?" a voice asked in Russian.  
  
"Very well, sir. We've been supposedly collecting weapons of mass destruction the whole day."  
  
"Good, keep it up. Arkadi does not suspect you of your allegiance?"  
  
"Not once has he doubted, sir. He truly believes we will collect the weapons and send them to him."  
  
"Most excellent, Dimitri. Will you begin the broadcast soon?"  
  
"The broadcast will begin shortly, though after some... minor setbacks, it'll take me a while to get to the 'studio'."  
  
"Good. I will make sure Arkadi is arrested soon. Do not worry about him any longer. Just send the broadcast and I promise you the largest paycheck you have seen, Dimitri."  
  
"Yes, of course... Mr. President," he said and cackled maniacally as he began to walk the long walk to Black Mesa's front lobby.  
  
(Well, that's probably the last chapter full of action in a short while. I'm going to try and pick up the pace on writing this sucker, since I want to finish it by August the 9th, so expect chapters to appear more often!) 


	10. Russian Roulette

(Yessir, chapter 9 is done. I thought I had too little Russians in my story after I introduced them, so let's give them one more round before we wrap this story up, eh? Ah well, let's see the reviews.  
  
Björn Fallqvist: Thanks man!  
  
Blizrun: Thanks. Don't worry, Gordon's still vital to the plot.  
  
Jason Storm: Thanks again!  
  
Your-under-arrest: Thanks, good to see my fic's had some kind of an effect. I guess I was wrong about the tanks, then. I just looked up a picture of an Abrams, and it looked like the green tanks. Ah well, the aliens were still using an Abrams, even if it was a pinch smaller than earlier.  
  
Kamon: Shock collar? Are you referring to the electric sweatbands they got on their wrists and neck? Are you sure it can be used to shock them? I'm pretty sure they're just used as weaponry. As for them using the marines' stuff, well, it's all about experimenting, you know. Ah well, sorry it was unrealistic. I hope you've otherwise enjoyed my fic.  
  
Well, that's it for now. This once again ties in in one part with Raider's Half-Life fic, and I pray he doesn't mind.)  
  
Chapter 9: Russian Roulette  
  
"Hey, Dylan," Adam called as the two sat, resting and partially drowsy from the medicines.  
  
"Yeah?" Dylan asked.  
  
"Thanks for knocking me out back there. I would have probably gotten us killed. But you must know how I felt when my old team was blasted."  
  
"Yeah, don't sweat about it." Of course he knew what the loss of friends felt like.  
  
"So, looks like you found Greshwald," Manners said as he walked towards them. "We got worried you'd get killed. We got report about something really big and nasty coming to get you."  
  
"Yeah, well, that big and nasty just dropped along with those tanks," Dylan pointed behind him at the burning wrecks. "But what about you, sir? I thought you were left at the nuclear silo."  
  
"Well, we got a call to return to the dam. Turns out things are going so bad that the Black Mesa guys and us started to fight together, and we assembled on the dam. Well, we fought this HUGE battle, but then these two security guards showed up in a tank and helped us in beating the aliens. They then left with everyone else to get some hi-tech gizmos to fight the aliens with. We decided to stay here in case you two turn up. Looks like we didn't miss on re-supplying for nothing."  
  
Dylan smirked, though he doubted that was the main reason he had stayed. Manners had been a bit paranoid about the scientists. He probably didn't want to be working with the scientists.  
  
"Sir! Bomber alert!" a marine called running down the road, being followed by a plane which began dropping it's salvo. "It's gonna blow the frickin' dam out!" All the marines began screaming in horror and running for the gates out. Manners tried to create some order, but he finally said "Screw it!" and joined the others in running.  
  
Right before the dam sustained too much damage, the bomber suddenly blew up and began falling. Just then a nearby radio began working.  
  
"Dam Team! Dam Team! Do you copy?" a voice called.  
  
"This is lieutenant Manners of Dam Team, sir, I read you," Manners answered.  
  
"Lieutenant, where is major Hickory?"  
  
"He's. on another assignment. My squad's the only one here, sir."  
  
"Well shit. Look lieutenant, we have to cancel the bombings because of the Russians' howitzers. Our teams are being sent back to take out the howitzers so the air strikes can continue. Your assignment, lieutenant, is to clear the nearby howitzers. We've located two of them: one by the front door to the research facility, and one firing through a hole in the roof of the front lobby."  
  
"Why the Hell should we take them out, sir? No offence, but I don't like the idea of helping you out just to have your bombers blow me to kingdom come."  
  
"Very well, if it'll make you feel more assured, lieutenant, our Ospreys will stay for 20 minutes on the ground for still downed marines to board them after howitzers have been dealt with. Now, move it! Your country depends you!"  
  
Dylan doubted that the country even cared what was happening in Black Mesa. Heck, the country didn't even know Black Mesa existed. But, the thought of getting out made him agree with the others and go stop those Russians.  
  
"Alright, if we're gonna get the Hell outta here, we're gonna go break those cannons!" Manners called, and his group cheered. Greshwald was placed on a canvas which two marines began carrying and the group set off towards Black Mesa's lobby."  
  
-----  
  
The Apache flew over the mountains after the marines had left and landed on the dam. The other Apache started to fly towards it, but quickly fell as a formation of six more Apaches came over the mountains and shot it down. Some of the Apaches landed on the dam while the others stayed in the sky. The slave leader stepped out of the first Apache just as his group of bodyguards ran from the dam gates.  
  
"How is the situation?" the leader asked the Apache pilots and his bodyguards.  
  
"We've amassed a great number of these flying machines and even more of the fast ones on wheels. I'm sure most of us could fit in these contraptions while those left behind could follow us out," one of the pilots explained. The leader smiled, well, as well as a thing without a jaw could smile.  
  
"Good. Brothers, I believe it is time we left this place and begin our conquest. Good riddance to the Nihilanth and his cronies. I've been called that some of our brothers have found a flying thing differing from what we have right now. This will be my flagship on our conquest. Now onwards!" Saying this, he climbed into his Apache while his bodyguards squeezed into the other Apaches. The choppers lifted off and the slave leader began the long process of calling his followers.  
  
-----  
  
"Look out!" Manners called as a projectile arched into the air and plummeted at them. The marines dived to the side as the howitzer shot hit the ground and erupted. Dylan stood back up. What Russians had survived after he had driven through them in the tank were now making a stand behind the sandbags. The howitzer was somewhere farther too, firing down on them. Dylan ran forwards with the others, ducking as they were met with a hail of sub-machinegun fire.  
  
Dylan rolled behind a sandbag to take cover from the fire and a marine joined him. The two stood up to come face to face with a mercenary. Dylan knocked him backwards and the other marine shot him dead. The two then ducked once more behind the bags as they were fired at. They continued peeking up and firing for a while until the next line of sandbags gave in and the marines pushed onwards. The two stood up and raced forwards, but then Dylan heard a whistling noise.  
  
Instinctively, he leaped to the left as another howitzer shot crashed nearby. He turned to see his companion had been blown to bits, pieces of smoking flesh across the field. Standing up, he once again began shooting at the Russians. Finally the mercenaries gave in and retreated. The marines ran on, firing at the Russians, until the enemy retreated behind a large door. Manners immediately went to punch the opening codes.  
  
As soon as the door opened, a truck came at them. All marines dived to the side as the vehicle came, some being run over by the massive tires. The truck went on and smashed into the rocks, but the marines went on after the Russians. After rounding a bend the group came to the front doors of the research facility, dominated by the shadow of the howitzer. The massive cannon was raised to aim into the sky, and began to lower to fire at the marines.  
  
Dylan began to run to the side as the howitzer fired. The shot flew straight where they had been standing, and some of the slower marines were blown away. Dylan began to circle around to the side of the living Russians who were huddling into the center by the cannon, but he dived towards the mercenaries as he heard a car engine behind him. A truck came down the road behind him and parked by the front doors. A few marines who had followed him were mowed down by the 18-wheeler.  
  
"Dimitri!" Dylan yelled as the leader leaped out of the truck with his crew. So, Dimitri had survived the massacre from earlier. For some strange reason, his crew came out carrying a set of lights and movie cameras, as if they were going to film something. Dimitri ran in a haste into the research facility, his group on his trail. Dylan didn't have time to concentrate on Baba Yaga's leader as the Russians began shooting at him.  
  
Dylan rolled onto the ground as he was fired on and then launched a grenade into the pack of Russians. They yelled horribly and flipped out of the group as the grenade blew up. Dylan saw as Manners, Adam, and the others ran into the group and began massacring them. Dylan joined them and began to fire on the mercenaries. What Russians survived, ran for cover into the building. The marines began to restock on their ammunition from some nearby crates after the Russians had left.  
  
"All right!" Adam called to Dylan. "We secured the first howitzer!"  
  
"Don't party yet," Dylan said. "Guess who I saw run in there? Dimitri."  
  
"Dimitri?" Manners asked, overhearing the conversation. "You mean their leader? Well hey, if we can take him out, we'll be able to stop the Russians once and for all! Then we can get the Hell out of here!" The tired marines began to cheer and lead by Manners, charged through the revolving doors and into the lobby.  
  
Immediately the dropped their weapons, Dylan and Adam with them. The lobby was full of Russians, greatly overpowering Manners' team. The howitzer was there too, and a Panzer tank had it's turret pointed at the doorway. Dimitri himself stood in the center inside a makeshift studio. He was clearly trying to film himself, but why?  
  
"Ah, the cavalry has arrived. Your too late, Americans, I have you beaten 2 to 1 and the broadcast will begin momentarily," the leader snickered.  
  
"Broadcast? What broadcast?" Manners asked.  
  
"You will soon see, my." he was interrupted by his mobile phone ringing. "One moment. Dimitri Eshtelkov, dobryi denj."  
  
"Dimitri! How is it going there?" Arkadi's voice asked.  
  
"Ah, hello Arkadi. I'm sorry to say, the deal's off."  
  
"Wha. WHAT?! The deal's off?! Dimitri, what are you doing?!"  
  
"Arkadi you fool, do you think I'd work for the money of some retired communist when I have much better paying clients?"  
  
"What are you talking about, Dimitri?!"  
  
"You've been set up from the beginning, Arkadi. I was paid to find evidence of your crimes and finish a few errand in Black Mesa. How easy it was to fake myself to your employment. After all, what you're doing right now is enough to get you arrested," Dimitri cackled, and Dylan found himself listening intently.  
  
"Who was it, Dimitri? WHO?!" Arkadi demanded.  
  
"None other than Mr. Vladimir Putin," Dimitri dropped the bomb, and most marines gasped. What the Hell was going on?  
  
"The President? Dimitri, what is going on?!"  
  
"Mr. Putin was approached by the Administrator in a plead to lend sufficient funding to pay for the building of Black Mesa. In return, he would be given enough money to pay for our country's predicament. As you can almost guess, the traitorous American hounds never paid."  
  
"Enraged, he decided to have revenge. After the facility had been built and the first few experiments done, he decided to publicly film what was going on here. He enlisted me to do this filming, but there was a problem. He didn't wish to pay for our trip here, which is why we decided to enlist with you, since you funded our trip and weaponry here. Fool."  
  
"But this situation with aliens is interesting. Mr. Putin's revenge will be much greater when the whole world will be told of the dark secret behind Black Mesa. America will be shunned upon, and no nations will ever trust the United States again. Two birds killed in one blow: payback and the end of the one huge parasite sucking up this planet."  
  
"Dimitri! When I get my hands on you." Arkadi cursed.  
  
"Don't worry 'boss', you'll soon find the police outside your house. They'll treat you to a better place, don't worry." Saying this, he closed his phone. "It's time to begin the broadcast! Are you sure this will play on every channel in the world?"  
  
"We're sure of it, Dimitri. No worries," a nearby Russian said.  
  
"Good. Please take a seat, Americans," Dimitri gestured to the ground, "and enjoy the show."  
  
The camera's began playing and Dimitri cleared his throat. "Ahem. Good day, I'm positive when I say you probably haven't met me. Allow me to introduce myself, Dimitri Eshtelkov."  
  
Dylan and the marines watched helplessly as their whole mission was turning into a failure. How they wished to stop Dimitri from broadcasting his speech, but they didn't dare against such odds. "I am sorry to say that a terrible situation has."  
  
Dimitri's words were cut short when the camera in front of him was smashed out of commission. "What are you doing?!" Dimitri yelled at the filmer, only to see that he had been mauled by an alien drone. The monster bellowed loudly and the room began to fill with teleporting drones.  
  
"Quick, now's our chance!" Manners called leaping up and knocking out one of the Russians with his rifle. The marines stood up as the whole room filled with commotion. Hornets whizzed through the room, taking out the helpless Russians. The mercenaries began to fire at the large group of drones, and in the chaos, the Russians didn't notice they were slowly being butchered by the marines.  
  
"Get me another camera!" Dimitri called and one of the Russians began digging into a chest. He soon pulled out a camera and began filming again, despite the air being filled with bullets and. "As I was saying, there is a terrible situation in New." a hornet flew straight into the lens, smashing through the camera, and embedded into the head of the person filming.  
  
Dylan waded through the mass of enemies, firing at them as he went past. Manners was heading to stop the howitzer, while the others were just taking out the Russians. Dylan fired and another mercenary fell. Another one appeared to his right side, taking aim with his sub-machinegun. Dylan kicked him in the stomach and fired at his head, then leaped over the body. Another Russian accidentally backed up into him as he fired at an oncoming drone. Dylan didn't waste time putting a bullet into the back of his head.  
  
Then he noticed Dimitri was once again trying to broadcast his message, this time holding the camera himself to his face. Quickly, Dylan began to run towards the center, firing to his sides on the way. A drone leaped in front of him, but Dylan rolled to the side and kept running.  
  
"Let me get to the point," Dimitri spoke fast, ducking as bullets and hornets flew by. "Your American scientists have accidentally."  
  
"It's all a publicity stunt!" Dylan yelled into the video camera. "He's trying to advertise a movie called. er. Half-Life! Yeah, Half-Life!" He then kicked the camera out of Dimitri's hands. The camera fell on the ground.  
  
"NO!" Dimitri reached for the camera, but the dead body of a drone fell on it, smashing it. Enraged, the Russian leader grabbed one of the tripods holding up the lights and began to use it as a sort of club, swinging at Dylan in an arc.  
  
"You just wrecked the paycheck of a lifetime!" he yelled, spit flying from his mouth. Dylan leaped backwards to dodge the light, and lifted his M4 up.  
  
"Don't get any closer!" Dylan called, pointing Dimitri with his rifle.  
  
"Oh, don't worry, I'm not coming closer. I can reach you just fine from here!" Dimitri yelled, obviously losing it, and lifted the tripod behind his back. Then both fighters heard a smash. Dimitri turned to see that he had broken the light on the head of a drone that had sneaked up on him. The light cracked off the tripod and the drone collapsed unconscious.  
  
"Umm. right." Dimitri chuckled nervously. "It was nice to meet you, American. Goodbye!" With a quick kick, Dimitri dropped Dylan on the ground and ran into the crowd of terrified Russians. Dylan climbed up and looked into the crowd. He could see Dimitri's fur coat pass through the crowd towards a door marked 'Laboratories'. Dimitri passed right by Adam on the way.  
  
"Adam! He's heading for the labs! Stop him!" Dylan called. Adam turned to look at what Dylan was pointing at, then saw Dimitri jump through the glass door. Adam nodded and ran through the glass door after Baba Yaga's leader.  
  
Dylan watched Adam go, then suddenly felt like he was being watched. He slowly turned to his left. "Eep."  
  
Dylan ducked down just as the Panzer tank fired right where his head had been. The shot went through the group, blasting whatever got in it's way down. Dylan stood up with a grenade ready in his hand, but decided a quick retreat was better as the tank began to drive at him. Dylan jumped to the side and once again got the grenade ready, only to have the tank spin it's cannon at him. Dylan once more ducked and got up, but the relentless tank only swung the cannon back.  
  
"Ok, that's it!" Dylan screamed and as the cannon came again, he grabbed on to the pipe and pulled himself up on it. He crawled forwards and pulled the pin off the grenade. Then he stuck the thing into the cannon. Dylan jumped off and ran at high speed into the group of people as the grenade blew up in the tank, killing everyone inside. Now he just concentrated on killing the Russians and drones, both of which were now losing.  
  
-----  
  
"I know you're there!" Adam called running down the few corridors. He could hear Dimitri's panting as he ran in his hot fur coat. After a few corners he saw the tails of the Russian's coat disappear around a corner.  
  
"Just give up and I won't kill you!" Adam called again and rounded the corner, only to see Dimitri disappear into another room. "Knock knock!" Adam called kicking the door down, then gasped and stopped.  
  
Dimitri stood on the other side of the room, breathing heavily, with a rocket launcher aiming straight at the door. The room seemed to be some kind of surgical operation room, with some tables and blades in the center that would normally spin and strike together, except that it had been turned off.  
  
"You Americans shouldn't leave your crates just lying around in rooms," Dimitri hissed, pointing to the side at a box which had obviously stored the rocket launcher before Dimitri had come in.  
  
"Care to try out which weapon's got a faster rate of fire?" Adam laughed back, knowing he could kill Dimitri with his rifle and easily dodge Dimitri's rocket. Not waiting for an answer, Adam pulled on his rifle's trigger.  
  
Click. Adam froze. He tried again. Click. He had emptied his clip in the lobby and now was unarmed in a sense.  
  
"Hah! Now who has who outgunned?!" Dimitri laughed, readying his rocket launcher.  
  
Adam looked around for a weapon, then laughed. "I've got you." Before Dimitri could ponder what he was talking about, Adam slammed his fist on the surgical blades' operational panel. The blades slowly began to move towards each other, and Dimitri stood right between them.  
  
"Nyet!" Dimitri screamed and tried to jump, but it was too late. The blades struck together, slicing Dimitri's legs clean off from the knees as he jumped in the air.  
  
"You can hide, but you can't run!" Adam laughed and turned to go away. Dimitri didn't answer as he passed out.  
  
-----  
  
"We got 'em now! After them!" Manners yelled as the Russians began to move out in one large mass through the door. Dylan stayed for a second to clear the room of the drones while the others ran after the mercenaries. He saw that Adam came running back.  
  
"Hey! Did you stop Dimitri?" Dylan asked.  
  
"Yeah, I cut him off," Adam laughed, though Dylan didn't get the pun. "You got any spare clips?"  
  
"Sure," Dylan said handing two clips. Adam immediately stuck one on. "Come on, the Russians are retreating. We've beaten one of our enemies." The two ran outside of the lobby to see the Russians had all piled in the one truck, which started driving for the dam.  
  
"Their heading for the outer gate! We can't let 'em escape!" Manners called. If those Russians got into the public, the mission would be a failure. The marines began to fire at the escaping truck, but they were too late, the truck was already gaining distance.  
  
Then, out of the blue, a massive assortment of drones and slaves teleported in. The truck smashed into the group and started to loose control. The truck bounced over the bodies of aliens before finally veering to the side and toppling onto the ground. It soon caught up flames and blew up, killing every last Russian there was.  
  
"What the Hell was that?" Dylan asked. "Why'd those aliens just show up?"  
  
Then it began. A few marines heard it: a small humming noise. But the noise began to grow until it boomed above all noises. There was no mistaking about it. It was that same screeching noise, the noise that spelled out doom. The sound of a teleporting alien.  
  
-----  
  
Far away on the border world Xen, code-named by scientists as X-699, where the aliens had originated, a duel to the death was going on. Gordon Freeman had finally reached the twisted ruler of aliens, the horrific Nihilanth, a gigantic pale copy of it's smaller controller minions. Gordon had knocked out the Nihilanth's psychic beacons, beautiful gems that let the Nihilanth keep it's head together. Now, without that protection, the alien overlord's head opened and closed like a flower, showing of the strange glowing brain inside. Gordon leaped on the jump-pads and landed on the top ledge. The Nihilanth, enraged by this one human who had overcome all obstacles he had set, floated upwards to face Freeman.  
  
Gordon leaped forwards straight at the Nihilanth's head. Before landing, he just grabbed a stalactite hanging from the roof. Hanging there, he pulled out his shotgun. The Nihilanth realized the danger it was in and tried to slow down, but the shotgun spoke, and the Nihilanth's psychic brainwas destroyed.  
  
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" the Nihilanth's yell rang through Gordon's head, though in reality it was a normal howl. The Nihilanth began to wince and tumble downwards, but even as Gordon leaped onto the ledge, the Nihilanth's psychic message rang.  
  
"I know you can hear me, human. How? How did you defeat me? I've been unmatched for millenniums, yet you defeat me with simple Earth weapons. But know this: by killing me, you've begun the destruction of your planet."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Gordon yelled down at the howling Nihilanth. The monster's reply was chilling.  
  
"I am. the one thing keeping this world in piece. Without my presence, this world crumbles and the pieces spread out into infinity. But I do not control my minions. Well, yes, actually I do, but not like this world. When I am killed, they will automatically leave to the closest place accessible. In theory, once I am gone with the world, my minions will be set free into another world. Now, being one of the smarter of your kind, you must understand what the closest accessible world is, especially after today's events."  
  
"No, you don't mean." Gordon began, but stopped. They both knew the answer.  
  
"Yes, I mean it. They're all going to Earth, all billion of them," the Nihilanth looked up at Gordon as his last dying act. He smiled cruelly as Freeman's eyes were wide and mouth gaping, then he lost the strength to keep up his physical manifestation and was destroyed, gone forever.  
  
Gordon disappeared from the Nihilanth's chamber and reappeared in front of the mysterious Administrator.  
  
"Greetings, Mr. Freeman," the Administrator said and pulled out a small remote control from his briefcase. He pressed the button and began to converse with Gordon. Though they were still in the Xen, which was slowly crumbling away, the remote still reached the missile silo in Arizona. The silo hatches began opening and the fading sun's lights reached the Tomahawks.  
  
-----  
  
The horrible noise finally began fading, though it still loomed in the background. Almost immediately Manners' radio started to act up.  
  
"Lieutenant, what the Hell is going on down there?!"  
  
"I have no idea, sir," Manners answered.  
  
"We're getting reports that there's aliens appearing all over southwest U.S.!"  
  
"What?! No! Don't worry, sir, we'll start clearing them out!"  
  
"Forget it, lieutenant. The mission has failed, the aliens have reached the public. You can all just start evacuating, along with the scientists."  
  
"But sir, the aliens have to be stopped."  
  
"I know, lieutenant. The military's done there for now. We're taking extreme measures to counter the threat."  
  
"Sir, you don't mean to."  
  
"We do. You've got 40 minutes to get your asses out of there. I suggest you move. Remember, the Ospreys are down for 20 minutes, so you'll be hiking out if you don't reach them."  
  
"Yes, sir," Manners swallowed, closing the radio, and for the first time that day, he had true fear on his face.  
  
"What? What are they doing?" Dylan asked, although he should have been expecting Manners' answer.  
  
"They're launching a nuke."  
  
( I know, I know, you're thinking, "What about the G-Man's missiles?" Don't worry, they will fit in. For now, just wait it out till the next chapter. We're nearing the end, folks.) 


	11. Fighting Time

(Ladies and gentlemen, I give you, Chapter 10! This chapter has a bit more talking than usual, but it's mostly interesting talk! Speaking of talk, let's answer those reviews!  
  
Kamon: Ok, I admit, I guess I made a boo-boo when having the slaves rebel. I'm sure there's some incredibly idiotic and cliché reason why their not shocked, but I'll let you decide. Oh, and I just really can't think of any place to add Barney into. I wasn't originally going to add Shephard into this either, sorry. But I'm happy to see the story's otherwise ok.  
  
Blizrun: Thermonuclear bomb?! Well, that would explain the cheap light effect in the end of Opposing Force. That's right, my friend and I beat Opposing Force! Take that, big alien worm thing! Well, I began writing this story before I played any expansions, so it was going to be expansionless- friendly, meaning that anyone who hadn't played the expansions would still understand the... aww, screw it! Everyone's played the expansions except me, haven't they?! I'm so pathetic! Boohoohoo.  
  
Your-under-arrest: Yes, ironic, isn't it? And it's also good basis for a sequel! Errr, I mean nothing! *shifty look to the side*  
  
Raider: Raider! You're alive! I thought space mummy came and ate you! Umm, anyway, yeah, I hate how alien dialogue is always the same as English, but it IS easier to read than directly translated, 100% grammatically incorrect dialect, right? And only the slave leader knows English (at the moment), he's reading an English dictionary with a scientist tutor/slave in one scene in "From Russia With Love".  
  
Well then, let's get on. Like I said, this chapter has more talking than usually (or maybe not, I don't know!), but just bear with me!)  
  
Chapter 10: Fighting Time  
  
John Rutberg didn't remember ever being this worried. He had gone to work as usual. John was a cop in the Amarillo Police Department in northern Texas, and nothing had been going on during that day until a distress call arrived, saying that of New Mexico being attacked by unknown beings.  
  
John and the others had laughed; someone was probably playing around. But then other states began to call of bizarre beings in them, until all of the Four Corners were infested. All roads leading to the west of Amarillo were blockaded, and now what had turned as a funny joke had become a serious business.  
  
Now John stood behind the barricades, his pistol pointing in sweaty palms towards the west. The air was tense. Nothing was happening, and he had been there for a long while.  
  
"It's just a joke after all," a nearby officer said, dropping his weapon.  
  
"Yeah, let's just all go back," John agreed, when something caught his attention. Strange, green glows were erupting to the west, then, out of nowhere, the flashes began behind the blockade. And out of those lights appeared the most horrifying manners of twisted beings John had ever seen. If this was a prank, it was done pretty damn good.  
  
-----  
  
"A nuke?!" Dylan gaped at Manners. "They're dropping a nuke on us?!" he repeated in disbelief.  
  
"Henderson, did you really think they wouldn't opt for that at some point?" Manners asked.  
  
"Well, it is an obvious choice, but sir! We're down here, along with a lot of other marines!"  
  
"Henderson, do you think the country cares for the lives of a few marines who'll have the risk of dying on the field anyway, or would it rather risk the lives of the whole country itself?"  
  
"Sigh, I see your point, sir," Dylan gave up. What use was it to argue about it? There was a nuclear warhead coming at them. Now the only reasonable thing was to get out and fast.  
  
"We've wasted already enough time standing here! We're to move out to the nearest Osprey, and quick!"  
  
"Where is the nearest Osprey, anyway, sir?" a marine asked.  
  
"The outer gates. We've got a long walk ahead, and only 20 minutes, so let's move!" Manners ordered and began running for the dam. The other marines followed. But as soon as they got onto the battlefield where they had fought the Russians first, they ran into a pack of aliens.  
  
"There's no time to fight! Keep advancing!" Manners ordered, firing as he ran straight into the aliens. One smaller alien floating in the air pointed at the marines and yelled something alien, and the drones and slaves immediately began to pummel at the soldiers.  
  
Dylan fired to his sides as he ran through the bunch, kicking down slaves in his way. A drone ran to intercept him, but Dylan didn't waste time to shoot the drone down. A new attack came from the sky as the obvious leader of the aliens began to hurl fireballs down at him. Dylan pulled a nearby slave and hoisted it on his back, using it as cover from the controller's attacks. The screaming slave kicked at the marine, but began to shake as it was bombarded with flames.  
  
Dylan soon got through the mass of aliens, not too badly damaged, and joined the ranks of running marines. The alien controller yelled and the aliens began to give chase. The marines got onto the dam and ran down it, the drones and slaves close behind. The marines soon ran through the dam's gates, but Dylan slowed down as he realized Manners was staying behind.  
  
"Sir! What are you doing?!" Dylan called.  
  
"Stopping them," Manners answered and pulled the pin off a grenade. He threw it into a nearby stack of ammo crates, then ran at a mad speed through the gate and away from the dam. The grenade blew up all the explosives, weaponry, and ammo in the crates, causing a massive explosion which sent a crack snaking down the side of the dam. At first water spewed from the crack, then concrete chunks fell of as the gap widened. Soon the whole side of the dam was crumbling downwards. The lake began to gush open, washing away the remains of the dam and the aliens standing on it. Dylan could only shake his head at Manners' cunning.  
  
As the two ran back to the waiting squad of marines, they saw the squad was locked in combat with alien-manned Hummers and infantry. The rebel slaves also seemed to be trying to get out, and as the few Hummers and slaves fought the marines, more of them ran for the gates while being covered. Dylan joined the ranks and began to fire at the slaves.  
  
"What? NO!!!" Dylan could hear Manners yell and turned to see the lieutenant talking to his radio. But he couldn't hear anything else as the guns and slaves' death screams were drowning out his speech. Then a bullet struck Dylan in the stomach, and he tripped backwards onto the ground. He felt around his stomach, then sighed as his suit had protected him from the worst damage. He stood and began to fire again.  
  
The Hummers backed away and drove off, following the retreating aliens, the infantry close behind. The marines fired after then, but stopped. There was no point shooting them, they weren't staying around for long. The marines began to continue running, but stopped when Manners called to them.  
  
"Hey! Stop! I was just called! We've got a problem!" Manners yelled, and the marines slowed down.  
  
"What problem, sir?" Dylan asked. Didn't they already have enough problems?  
  
"Someone needs to stay here. It's not actually a nuke they're firing."  
  
"Well, what is it, sir?" Adam asked in turn, just as annoyed that with the situation.  
  
"It's more of an improvised nuke. It's a squadron of Tomahawk missiles, specially fitted with uranium chips in the tips. While it will be destructive, it won't reach the power of a real nuke without a uranium source to strike at," Manners explained. "You see, this way the government ensures that they won't be blamed for using a nuclear warhead. If asked, they'll just say they were conducting experiments. If asked to show the record of fired missiles, there won't be anything on the list except a few Tomahawks. Genius, really."  
  
"Wait, you said they need another nuclear source to home into, sir," Dylan interrupted Manners. "What are they aiming at then?"  
  
"They're going for the nuclear silo. Trouble is, someone has to go down there and manually open the rooftop hatch on the silo, otherwise the missiles will hit the mountain. And you realize, that someone won't be leaving Black Mesa alive."  
  
"Sir, I'm sorry, but we are too tired to go and sacrifice ourselves," Dylan refused.  
  
"I know. You're all good men, who deserve to live. That's why I'm going," Manners said without doubting, and Dylan's eyes widened.  
  
"Sir, no! We don't want you to die! I'll go then, if it's so important that you'd sacrifice yourself!" Dylan offered. Manners was just as good of a person as they were, and their leader too. He had lead them since they had gotten out of boot camp. He was almost like a father figure for the marines.  
  
"No, Henderson, I'm going. All of you are this country's future. I've served my purpose."  
  
"But who will..."  
  
"... lead you out of here?" Manners finished the question for Dylan. "You will, Henderson. You've proven to me today you've got the skills and the resolve. It's with pride that I order you to lead my men out of Black Mesa."  
  
"Sir, I refuse to!" Dylan yelled back.  
  
"Private Henderson, that's an order! You will all obey private Henderson until you have gotten out of the Black Mesa Research Facility! Now, go! The Ospreys will leave in 10 minutes!"  
  
Dylan stared at the lieutenant angrily for a moment. "Yes sir," he finally said. Manners smiled, and patted Dylan's shoulder.  
  
"I know you can do it, Dylan," he whispered, handing his spare clips to him. "Good luck."  
  
"Good luck to you too, sir," Dylan nodded, then turned towards the road. "All right, we've got 10 minutes to get out of here, so how about we move?!" Then the marines began to file away towards the gates.  
  
"Oh, and private Henderson!" Manners called before leaving. Dylan stopped to turn back, hoping he had changed his mind, though he knew Manners wouldn't do that.  
  
"Remember the garage way back when we arrived here? I didn't like killing those scientists either, and I'm truly sorry about it."  
  
"Thank you, sir," Dylan smiled. "That's all I wanted to hear from you." Then he joined the running marines and continued on. Manners shook his head for a moment, then turned to the opposite direction, and began to run for the silo doors.  
  
Dylan and his group ran around a few bends, meeting little resistance, but soon met a familiar adversary. Down the road crawled the pathetic shaped of Dimitri, leader of the Russians, still wearing his fur coat. The tired Russian crawled down the road and groaned. When he turned his head up and saw the marines, his eyes flashed with rage.  
  
"I thought you killed him, Adam," Dylan said to Adam, standing by him. Adam only shrugged.  
  
"You!" he called, standing up. Dylan noted that Dimitri looked a lot shorter than before. "This is your fault! My mercenaries are all dead. The finest mercenaries in all of Europe, wasted! You killed them!" he began to weep, then got a control of himself.  
  
"Dimitri, you can come with us," Dylan offered, showing mercy. "We can take you to a prison. You'll be taken better care of there than here."  
  
"NO!!!" the Russian screamed, pulling out a grenade from his coat. "My team, my paycheck, my, my, my LEGS!!! You took it all!" Now Dylan realized that Dimitri was missing half of his legs. "I'll kill you all!" He croaked, pulling out a Molotov cocktail and a lighter from his pocket.  
  
"Dimitri, watch out!" Adam suddenly yelled, but it was too late. The nearby wall burst open to a wall of fire. Dimitri yelped, pulling his coat for cover, and was thrown by the jet through a window into the opposite building.  
  
"Quick, everyone inside!" Dylan called, and the marines piled into the opposite building as, in an impossible feat, the gargantuan stepped out. The thing was shattered: it's hard chitinous skin blasted away to reveal it's soft muscles. One arm had been lost a long time ago, the other still active, though in a bad shape.  
  
"What?! It's still alive!" Dylan yelled, peering out of the window.  
  
"What are we gonna do, Dylan... sir," a nearby marine asked. Right then, Dylan realized he was in charge then, and it was his fault if anyone died. He was the one making decisions now, and the thought almost overwhelmed him. He was helpless, he couldn't get them out of there. But then he realized he HAD to get them out, or he would have failed Manners. The thought of failing a martyr was much more terrifying.  
  
"We need to get past the gargantuan, so someone has to distract it. But I don't think whoever distracts it will live, cause they can't return. The gargantuan would follow otherwise. Will anyone volunteer, or do I have to do it myself?" Dylan asked. The marines looked at each other, no one speaking up.  
  
"I'll do it," Dylan heard a voice behind him, and turned to see Adam was speaking. "I'm the last member of Rail Team. If I have to die, then I'll die here with my former comrades."  
  
"Adam, I don't want YOU to go, your my only friend here. Yeah, and Greshwald," Dylan pointed at the marine lying in the canvas carried by the others. "Besides, there's still some Rail Team members here, remember?"  
  
"No, look around, Dylan. They've all died before in past fights. I'm the last one. Please, I want to help you out, let me do this... sir," Adam added.  
  
"All right," Dylan finally said, though he felt himself losing a chunk of his heart as he said so.  
  
"Oh, Dylan, before I go out, tell me something. When we first met, we immediately came friends. I could have just been planning on using you as a human shield or something instead of truly being a friend, but you still so easily befriended me. Why is that? Normally it's hard to become friends."  
  
"I trusted you, because you remind me of my brother," Dylan answered, "You're a lot like him, in more ways than one."  
  
"What's that mean?" Adam asked.  
  
"My brother's name was Adam," Dylan smiled, and Adam stared in surprise, then nodded.  
  
The marines all ran out, Adam running in front of them. "Hey, you!" he called. "Yeah you, big and ugly! I'm the one you want, aren't I? I'm the one who speared you with that tank. Come and get me, numbskull!" The gargantuan probably didn't understand what he said, but still charged him. Meanwhile, Dylan lead the marines past the monster.  
  
-----  
  
Dimitri watched from the corner of his eye as the marines ran out of the building. After all had left, he laughed out loud and stood up. Not only was his fur coat bullet proof, it also had a sheet of asbestos in it. The gargantuan's flame thrower had felt like a day at the beach. In fact, the monster had been useful, and had burned his leg wounds shut.  
  
Dimitri tried to walk, but the his former legs turned stumps made walking awkward, and Dimitri tripped onto the ground. There, his eyes met with possibly the most harmless-looking alien so far.  
  
The bug was tiny, smaller than the headcrabs. It was completely red with a few clawed legs and a large green eye. The cockroach-like bug let out small chirping noises as it stared in wonder at the Russian.  
  
"Heh, what are you gonna do, shrimp? I'd just like to see what attacks you've got," Dimitri laughed at the tiny insect. It answered by screaming, and leaping into the laughing Dimitri's mouth.  
  
The Russian's laughs turned into screams as the bug began to dig into his head with razor sharp teeth and claws. Dimitri squirmed on the ground as he felt the thing entering his brain. Then, the insect's inner timer hit zero and the insect blew up. Dimitri's head combusted along with the insect, effectively beheading him. Baba Yaga's leader had run out of escape tricks, just because of a tiny alien bug.  
  
-----  
  
"Move, move, move!" Dylan called as the strange flying aliens appeared over the tops of the buildings. The marines ran in the alcoves, heading for the outer gate, with only 5 minutes on the timer. They rounded a bend and almost crashed into a group of scientists running in the opposite direction.  
  
"Hold your fire!" Dylan yelled to the scientists, who began reading a rocket launcher at them. "We're not enemies anymore!"  
  
The scientists didn't say anything, but continued to ready their rocket launcher. Dylan gulped, but instead of firing at the marines, the scientist let a shot loose into the sky. The rocket roared into the side of an Apache, aiming it's gun towards the marines. Aliens leaped in terror as the Apache began to plummet.  
  
"Why would we suddenly stop fighting each other?" one of the scientists asked.  
  
"The reason why we tried to kill you was so the aliens wouldn't leak out into the public. But that's happened already, so there's no point in fighting you any longer," Dylan explained.  
  
"How can we trust you? You might just try to shoot us in the back," the scientist asked.  
  
"Well, we didn't try to kill you when you were loading that rocket launcher. I mean, it could have been us you were aiming at, not those aliens." This statement seemed to have effect on the scientists, who began to scratch their jaws.  
  
"Sir, sorry to interrupt you, but there's only about a few minutes on the timer, and the fly-guys are coming back," a marine said to Dylan, and as if on cue, the alien controllers appeared over the rooftops.  
  
"Please, trust me on this," Dylan said to the scientists, then signaled the marines to move out. The marines began to run, and Dylan noticed the scientists were running with them.  
  
They soon came to the outer gates. The gates had been opened wide and the Osprey could be seen outside on the desert. Alien Hummers and infantry were going through the gate, obviously moving out, considering that they were ignoring the Osprey. Meanwhile, in the sky, huge amounts of Apaches and Ospreys were flying off, some manned by aliens, most still belonging to the military.  
  
"HEY!" Dylan waved to the Osprey, which was beginning to rise, and sprinted through the gates. The Osprey lowered onto the ground as it saw the marines coming, and Dylan climbed inside.  
  
"Wow, we thought no one was coming here," the pilot said to Dylan. "There weren't that many marines here by the gates. We were just leaving."  
  
"Yeah, well, my squad's coming, and a few scientists along with them. We've got to move out and fast, it's only about 20 minutes until that nuke hits this place," Dylan said as the marines began climbing in. As soon as everyone was on board, the Osprey's propellers began spinning as the helicopter rose into the sky. The massive chopper flew off, leaving the alien controllers behind them.  
  
"Wait a minute!" Dylan called suddenly realizing something. "We've got to go back!"  
  
"What?!" the pilot yelled over to him as he held onto the roof. "That's suicide!"  
  
"Do it!" Dylan called, lifting his rifle up.  
  
"All right, all right! Sheesh..." the pilot said and turned the Osprey back towards the abandoned research center. The Osprey flew over the buildings, Dylan staring through the window as they passed over.  
  
"There!" he pointed on the ground. The pilot looked down and saw a lone marine fighting a gargantuan in a small clearing. The Osprey began lowering down, and Dylan rappelled downwards. "Adam!" he called to his friend, who had, by luck, still lived this long. The marine saw him, stared wide eyed, and began to run for his hanging friend. Adam leaped onto the rope, and the two were hauled up into the helicopter.  
  
"You're still alive!" Dylan laughed as hey were being pulled up.  
  
"Yeah, that brute's a lot slower now that he's taken a beating," Adam responded while the gargantuan leaped up and down under them.  
  
"Can we now leave?" the pilot asked. Dylan nodded to him as he took hold of the roof, and the Osprey set off away. Soon they joined the other helicopters flying away. A few Apaches were flying lower, obviously belonging to the rebel slaves, but the marines didn't bother to deal with them right now. Both sides seemed to have agreed on a cease fire.  
  
Dylan looked out of the window at the other helicopters. He saw that the Sun was disappearing behind the horizon. Evening was beginning. They had fought since the morning, but as Dylan turned to watch at the sitting marines and scientists, chatting with each other, he realized that finally, FINALLY, the Black Mesa mission was over.  
  
Or so he thought. But the rebel leader had other plans. A few marines suddenly collapsed with bullet holes, and everyone dived onto the Osprey's floor as the walls began filling with bullet holes. Dylan nearly shed out a tear; he thought he would have been finally free of Black Mesa, but it seemed like there was one more alien picking a fight left.  
  
-----  
  
Lieutenant Manners walked on the catwalk above the vats of nuclear waste. He had been able to sneak in, finally. He walked into the control cabin and began studying the panels. Soon he found the open button. He watched as the metallic door in the cavern's roof began to open.  
  
Manners knew he couldn't get out of the blast area in time, so he decided it was no use running. He sat down on a chair and began to wait. At that point he realized that was probably the last time anyone would sit on that chair.  
  
Disturbed by the fact, Manners started to work on a nearby computer. He started up Minesweeper to pass the time. But then he saw that that was the last time anyone would ever play Minesweeper on that computer. Manners couldn't help it. He slumped down and began to cry. He was a tough member of the army, ready to take on just about anything. But this wasn't how he wanted to die. Not alone, doing things that no one would do there again. He wanted to die as an old, old man, surrounded by loved ones as he laid in the hospital bed.  
  
There, when he was about to meet his maker, he finally understood what had troubled him throughout his life: he was scared of dying. This revelation didn't help out at all, and he continued crying there, waiting for his end to come.  
  
(Well, this is it. Next chapter will be scheduled somewhere around August the 9th , possibly later. Then we'll see the conclusion, Dylan's final battle. Let's wish our favorite marine some good luck and wait and see how he'll fare, eh?) 


	12. Holocaust

(I was supposed to put this up on August 9th, but I'm gonna be gone for a week tomorrow, so I'm putting it early. The reason why I wanted to put it up on that date is because my birthday is on that day. So once I come back I'll be 14 years old. Whoopee. Don't any of you DARE wish me a happy birthday, ok?  
  
zUg mAh oAtaX: Thanks. Yeah, the end's depressing, but you gotta have some drama. It can't all be BAM BAM BLAM SHU-SHUNK ZAP ZAP AAAARGGGGHHH!, you know.  
  
Raider2: Well, that wasn't what I was expecting. Hmm, maybe I should have just had Manners live. But you know, I was getting scared that the story might be considered childish where everyone lives happily ever after. A heroic sacrifice usually fixes that. Ah well, sorry about that.  
  
Most Wicked: I keep hearing that, yeah. Yes, I know it is unrealistic (though I think it's not that hard to learn to use a gun or car), but you gotta stretch a little on the realism at times. I mean, we wouldn't even have that cool chapter where they fight the tank in another tank, and we wouldn't have this final fight. Speaking of which, let's just get on with it! (BTW, thanx for not minding the 'Dimitri' bit.)  
  
Chapter 11: Holocaust  
  
Dylan picked himself up from the Osprey's floor after the spray of bullets had ended. He heard how a helicopter flew over the Osprey, then watched how a nearby Apache was fired on. Dylan peered outside to see a helicopter flying amidst the other helicopters, but this one was different. It was smaller than the Ospreys, but wasn't as heavily armed as the Apaches. Also, it's shape was more sleek, and an alien was firing from a machine gun on the window.  
  
"A Black Hawk?!" Dylan said when he finally recognized the support chopper. "What the Hell is this? We never had any Black Hawks during this mission! We only had Ospreys and Apaches!"  
  
"I believe I can explain," a scientist said, crawling towards him, not wanting to get hit. "I worked at the weapons department. One of our experiments was a reinforced Black Hawk. We only finished one prototype, and agreed that it was perfect."  
  
"A reinforced Black Hawk? What's that mean?" Dylan asked, peering back out. The Black Hawk circled over a nearby Osprey and let loose a stream of bullets. The Osprey survived the attack, but began to let out smoke.  
  
"Well, for one, the bullets in it's machine gun are thicker than usual, and are able to penetrate thicker shields. Also, it's armor capacity has been greatly increased, and it can take much more damage than a normal helicopter of that size," the scientist explained, and as a visual example, two Apaches fired missiles at it, but the Black Hawk merely bounced in the air.  
  
"And you just had to leave it in a place where the rebel slaves could take it for a spin?" Dylan commented, irritated. "That thing will kill us if we don't take it out. Guess I'll have to do it."  
  
"Dylan, how are you going to stop it?" Adam asked as he walked over to him.  
  
"I'm gonna board it. Adam, I want you to watch that Greshwald doesn't get hurt," Dylan signaled to the back of the copter. "Pilot, call an Apache to fly under us. Wish me luck." Saying no more, Dylan grabbed a rope and rappelled downwards.  
  
He was now floating in an extremely dangerous place. First of all, they were flying very high, and if Dylan were to drop off the rope, he'd plunge to his death. Second, with the Black Hawk flying around, Dylan was practically a sitting duck. His worst fears came through when he saw the enemy fly towards him. The Black Hawk came so close that Dylan could see the slave piloting the helicopter.  
  
Then the Apache appeared in front of Dylan. Dylan began to swing on his rope, and leaped into the open door on the helicopter. The Black Hawk flew past without firing, but Dylan saw the slave leader himself was manning the machine gun.  
  
"Fly after that copter, will ya?" Dylan said to the pilot. The pilot nodded and flew after the Black Hawk, firing missiles while at it. Some of the missiles hit home, but the Black Hawk only shrugged them off. Dylan looked around the room for a weapon, and found a rocket launcher by the pilot. He grabbed it and prepared to fire.  
  
The two choppers crisscrossed in a group of helicopters, avoiding military choppers at each turn. At one point, the Apache dived under an Osprey while the Black Hawk flew over the large copter. Dylan saw that the Apache was directly under the enemy. He fired a rocket at it, which caused the Black Hawk to bounce again. It slowed down enough for the Apache to fly right next to it, and Dylan came face to face with the slave leader. Dylan didn't waste time to pounce from one chopper to the other, and dived headfirst through the window and into the leader.  
  
The leader slapped Dylan over the face with his claws, and Dylan could feel blood gushing from his cheek. He kicked the leader in the stomach, then stood up. Only then he realized there were about ten slaves in the Hawk, all loading up their electrical attacks.  
  
"Dylan!" someone called his name. Dylan looked out the window and saw that his Osprey was there, with Adam waving for him. Dylan pulled the pin off his last grenade, then dived out of the window. He grabbed the floor of the Osprey and hauled himself in. The grenade blew up in the Black Hawk, but Dylan saw that the leader had dived out and was hanging on the side of the window. Also, apparently the inside of the Hawk was resistant too, and the helicopter kept flying.  
  
"Is Greshwald all right?" Dylan asked, though he should have known that he was all right. He had seen the Black hawk at all times, and it had never fired on an Osprey as it had ducked among the retreating helicopters.  
  
"Yeah, but the Hawk's still in the air and looks like one of the aliens survived," Adam said staring out of the Osprey. The leader had scurried back inside after dodging the grenade and now was manning the machine gun again.  
  
"I know. I've seen him boss around the others and signal orders through the radio. He must be the leader of the slaves."  
  
"Then I bet if we can take him out, we'll take out the whole rebellion," Adam suggested. "But he's in the Black Hawk. The thing's near impenetrable. How are we gonna stop him?"  
  
"I'm gonna try and beat him man to man," Dylan said. "Hey! Try to get close to it!" he called to the pilot.  
  
"Are you mad?!" the pilot answered. "It'll shred us!"  
  
"Yeah, and it'll do so any way if I can't stop it!" Dylan called back. The pilot sighed and sped off to follow the Black Hawk, which was picking out helicopters as it passed by.  
  
"Dylan, why are you doing this?" Adam asked.  
  
"Because someone has to, and I'm responsible for our squad," Dylan replied, then saw they were next to the Black Hawk again. The leader aimed it's gun at Dylan's head, but the marine answered by flicking something at him. The leader, in fear of a grenade, grabbed the object and threw it back. Only after the grenade had been thrown back did the slave realize it wasn't a grenade, but Dylan's helmet. Dylan used this opportunity to leap into the Hawk and began a fistfight with the leader.  
  
"Wow, would you look at that," the pilot of the Osprey pointed towards the setting Sun going under the horizon.. "The first stars are up, and they're on the same side as the Sun. Isn't that strange?"  
  
"Those aren't stars," Adam said, and the pilot saw that the dots of light were growing larger. "It's the missiles!"  
  
Meanwhile, Dylan was fighting the slave leader head on. Dylan's final grenade had taken out all the slaves, so now only the pilot and leader were manning the Black Hawk. Dylan swung his foot at the leader, causing him to fall on the ground. Dylan pointed his rifle at the alien's head, but he retaliated by firing an electric blast. Dylan flew backwards in the chopper and the leader leaped onto him.  
  
The leader tried to plunge his claws into Dylan's eyes, but the marine answered by smashing his fist into the slave's own eye. The alien leaped off Dylan, who used he momentum to jump up himself. The leader recovered faster than Dylan had expected, and swung his claws at the marine. Dylan toppled backwards, but instead of feeling the ground, he saw how he plunged out of the Black Hawk's door. But as he fell, Dylan's leg kicked the leader in the jaw, and he too fell out of the opposite door.  
  
The slave pilot stared down and cursed at the marine, then looked up when he saw an unnaturally bright light. He didn't waste a second to plunge through the glass of the window, as a Tomahawk speared through cockpit. Such was the force that the missile kept flying, helicopter in tow. If anything could destroy the Black hawk, it was probably a nuclear explosion.  
  
The pilot fell downwards and grabbed a rope hanging from an osprey. He hauled himself up and was met with the end of Adam's rifle. The slave gave up and lifted it's arms.  
  
Meanwhile, Dylan and the slave leader fell past Adam's Osprey. Dylan thought his end had come when he felt a hard landing. At first Dylan thought he had fallen onto the ground and had died, but he realized he was on one of the Ospreys. On the left wing, to be exact. Dylan climbed up and saw that the leader had fallen onto the other wing. There were lots of other helicopters in the air, with Tomahawks weaving among them.  
  
Dylan checked his PCV vest's status. The suit had been emptied of all armor. Dylan's rifle had fallen over the side of the Osprey, and the slave leader too was unarmed. A fair fight, Dylan thought.  
  
"As human say," the leader spoke in his poor English and leaped onto the middle of the Osprey, "bring it."  
  
"You're on," Dylan accepted the challenge and climbed onto the helicopter himself. It was time to finish this war once and for all.  
  
The two circled on top of the flying Osprey's roof, looking for a place to strike. Both fighters had to continually keep their balance on the flying helicopter, which made fighting difficult. The leader begun the attack by running at Dylan with his claws. The marine lifted his hands to protect his face, but the leader's attack was a ruse. At the last moment he dived under Dylan's legs and stood up. This caused Dylan to fall forward onto his stomach.  
  
The slave fell backwards onto his back, painfully crashing on Dylan. The leader rolled around and grabbed Dylan with a headlock. Dylan fought to stand up, but even when on his feet, the leader didn't let his vice grip off. Dylan expected this and grabbed the leader's hands. He then threw the surprised alien over his back and took a deep breath. The leader angrily stood up and ran at the marine, who answered by charging himself. The two smashed into each other and grabbed each other in an attempt to throw each other. Neither side was able to throw each other, so the two kept hanging onto each other and spun on the Osprey's roof. They realized that for either side to win, they'd have to let go and back off. But neither one dared, then the other could take a cheap shot.  
  
Their dilemma was quickly answered when both of them heard a horrid roaring noise. The two looked towards the osprey's front and saw a Tomahawk flying right at them. They both jumped backwards as the missile passed by. Dylan was nearly pulled along by the air current, but was able to stay on the Osprey.  
  
Insanely screaming, the leader pounced at Dylan as he fought to keep balance. He smashed right into the marine, and the two tumbled onto the Osprey's left wing, dangerously close to the spinning rotors. The leader's eyes gave out a cold stare as he began to force the laying Dylan's head towards the rotors. Dylan gasped as the leader's claws wrapped around his neck and began to push forwards with all his might. He was exhausted from the day's events and didn't have the strength to properly fight against the slave's merciless attack.  
  
The leader laughed heartily as Dylan's head was a few inches from the blades, but then Dylan kicked upwards. The slave leaped upwards and Dylan rolled out of the way and stood up. The slave fell back onto his feet, but was losing his balance. He shook from front to back, nearing the rotors at every bend.  
  
Maybe it was that he didn't want to end the fight like this. Maybe he thought the alien deserved to live. Maybe he just wanted to help out the poor soul. Whatever it was, Dylan grabbed the flailing arms of the leader and pulled him away from the dangerous propellers. When the leader turned to look at the marine, Dylan could have sworn he saw a small spark of gratitude in the slave's eyes.  
  
But the slave soon took a feral look and swung his hand in an arc. Dylan stepped backwards to dodge the claws, then leaped further backwards as the leader kicked forwards. Dylan climbed back onto the middle of the helicopter, and turned to stare at his fighter.  
  
His face was filled with alien fist.  
  
-----  
  
"NO! Dylan!" Adam yelled as the Osprey he was in flew over the other helicopter. The leader leaped in front of Dylan and got ready to do something else horrendous. "You bastard! It's not enough that my Team died, my friend's got to pass away too, huh?!" he yelled and lifted his rifle away from the hostage slave pilot and at the slave leader.  
  
"Let him fight," Adam heard a frail voice below him. He looked down and saw Greshwald.  
  
"Greshwald?! What are you doing?! You're supposed to be resting!"  
  
"I woke up, okay? I crawled over here to watch what was going on. Listen, I'm sure Dylan can find a way to stop that psycho. It's his fight, so let him finish it."  
  
"All right," Adam nodded reluctantly. He turned again towards the captured pilot, but he had given up a long time ago and sat on the ground, watching how his leader fared. Adam shrugged and joined Greshwald and the pilot in watching.  
  
-----  
  
Dylan looked drowsily up to see a looming form. He shook his head to clear his mind, and the strange revolving stars went away. But the looming form cleared away to reveal the demented slave leader. The alien pulled Dylan up and tightened his claws around his neck. Dylan shook and twisted to breathe, but the leader didn't allow that.  
  
Suddenly, Dylan's mind flashed back to earlier that day, in the rail systems. He had been in a heated fight with Gordon. He had got the scientist's neck in his hands just like the leader right now. He remembered what Gordon had done, and realized the roles had changed. It was now his turn to give out punishment.  
  
Instinctively, Dylan drove his boot into the slave leader's crotch. The leader stopped to gape in surprise, then let go as his eyes began to fill with tears. The leader shuffled away towards the front of the Osprey, and Dylan stopped to rest.  
  
"Sir!" the leader heard a slave call in his native language. He turned with tear-filled eyes and saw that one of the alien-manned Apaches had broken out of the formation flying near the ground, and had flown to his aid. A slave waved through the open door and threw a large blue object at him. Dylan watched as the slave caught the large object, and then saw as he fitted the object into his third arm growing from his chest. Then Dylan understood what it was.  
  
It was like the hivearm of the alien drones, except it was much larger, requiring the leader's both hands to hold it.  
  
It was the gargantuan's hand.  
  
"OH SHIT!" Dylan yelled and leaped backwards as the leader sprayed fire at him. Although it had been severed from the monster itself, the hand was still quite usable. The slave walked forwards and fired again, which Dylan responded to by jumping backwards again. He realized he'd run out of helicopter soon, and then he'd be cooked.  
  
"Dylan, catch!" Dylan heard someone yell. He looked up to see his osprey circle above the one he was standing on. Greshwald waved through the door, while Adam grabbed the captured slave pilot from the throat and threw him to Dylan.  
  
"NO!" the leader yelled and reached forwards, which caused him to drop his flame thrower. Dylan grabbed the slave, who had a worried look on his face, and pulled him forwards as a human shield.  
  
"Have a taste of your own medicine, ya freak," Dylan grinned, pulling the slave's wristbands to his collar. Immediately they began to excite the particles in the air, causing the slave to load it's electrical beam. The leader screamed, grabbed the flame thrower, and ran at Dylan while firing flames. Dylan answered by firing the charge, causing the leader to fly backwards, and Dylan himself to fly backwards from the recoil.  
  
At the same time, the nuke hit. -----  
  
Lieutenant Manners looked up through the window as he heard the roaring noise. He had overcome his fear a while ago and had begun to pass time by playing Minesweeper. Now he firmly stood up to watch as the first Tomahawks flew into the cavern.  
  
There Lieutenant Paschal Richard Manners saluted the oncoming wall of fire, and had only one thing to say as the windows shattered.  
  
"God bless America."  
  
-----  
  
The massive explosion first rocked the silo. Any aliens left in Black Mesa looked in wonder as the mountain itself bulged outwards. Then it burst open, and the trademark mushroom cloud of a nuclear holocaust rose to the sky. The explosion grew, eating up everything in it's path. Every building in it's way crumbled, blown off by the combustion. Whole mountains strained and toppled downwards. The front lobby crumpled into a pile. Even the remains of the dam were instantly vaporized as the massive cloud, fed by the huge vats of nuclear waste, expanded, leaving no place in Black Mesa safe.  
  
Meanwhile, a chain reaction began under the compound. The very foundations began to plummet on top of each other. Whatever scientists and aliens who looked for refuge in the lower levels were instantly crushed by the upper levels which fell like a stack of cards on top of each other. A massive hole appeared on the ground of New Mexico, dragging everything inside. Even the mushroom cloud itself sunk into the earth's bowels. Then, finally, it stopped. The mountains had toppled on top of the gap, hiding the remains of the facility from the world. The Administrator had quite effectively removed all traces that there had ever been anything there.  
  
Dylan knew immediately to close his eyes as he heard the explosion. But he had not been expecting the force of the shock waves. The whole Osprey itself tilted by 45 degrees as the force of the shock wave reached them. Although the cloud itself didn't reach the squadron of fleeing helicopters, the shock wave caused everything to tilt. Dylan felt how he began to tumble along the Osprey's roof, and soon found he flew over the side of the cockpit.  
  
He flipped in the air and grabbed the nose of the Osprey. The slave pilot rolled over the side and to his certain death. The Osprey's pilot, after recovering from the nuke's shock, pulled the Osprey back to a normal position. Dylan hanged on the Osprey's tip, and turned to see he wasn't alone. The leader also had rolled over the side and had grabbed the osprey too. The two stared at each other, and began to ineffectively kick each other.  
  
"This not work, we go up," the slave leader mongered, and Dylan agreed. The two hauled onto the Osprey's windshield, and began to wrestle each other. After a while they crashed through the window and continued wrestling on the cockpit floor.  
  
"Hey, get out!" the pilot yelled. "I've got a copter to fly!"  
  
"How many parachutes do you have?" Dylan asked and beat away the leader's claws reaching for his face.  
  
"Enough to get all the passengers of the chopper, why?" the pilot asked. Dylan leaped away off the leader and climbed onto the control panel. The leader leaped at him, grabbing him in a bear hug.  
  
"Tell them to bail out. Don't wait for me, I'm going down with this freak!" Dylan ordered and fought to escape from the leader's grasp. The leader bought it all, but Dylan was just using a clever ruse again. Looking down, he kicked on the 'FUEL DUMP' button.  
  
"Oh shit!" the pilot screamed and ran out as the Osprey began to violently shake and plummet. Warning lights blared all over the cockpit. The slave, caught by surprise from the sudden free fall, fell backwards. Dylan landed on him and smashed him in the face a couple of times, then ran into the cargo bay.  
  
Everyone had leaped out by now, and Dylan and the slave were the only ones in the falling Osprey. He frantically looked around, and saw salvation. Adam's Osprey was flying right next to the falling one, and he threw a rope over to the other Osprey. Dylan dived out of the Osprey and grabbed the rope. He swung out of the Osprey, and hung in the air. He sighed with relief, but suddenly felt great pain in his legs.  
  
He saw the leader, with a mad look, hanging from Dylan's legs with his claws. Dylan screamed and tried to shake his legs but that only hurt more. He stared as the alien Apache appeared by the Osprey's side, and the leader leaped backwards into the open cockpit. He grinned as he began to call out orders. The Apache began to pull away.  
  
"Adam, your rifle!" Dylan called up. Adam immediately dropped his rifle downwards. Dylan grabbed it in midair, twirled it around, and began firing. But he didn't fire at the Apache, instead at the Apache's missiles. He smiled sadistically at the leader's look on his face. The missiles blew up, taking out the Apache's right wing and half of the propellers. The Apache began to crash-land, but Dylan didn't care, as he climbed up into the Osprey.  
  
"Nice work, Dylan. I knew you could beat him," Greshwald smiled, then passed out again. Adam just shook his head and laughed  
  
"Follow that falling Apache, please," Dylan said to the pilot. He nodded and began to fly towards the ground. The fuel-less Osprey smashed into the ground, killing everything, providing there would have been anything in it. The Apache crash-landed nearby, though in a more controlled way.  
  
Dylan's Osprey landed nearby the two wrecks, and Dylan and Adam leaped out. They walked over to the Apache, and saw as a few slaves crawled from under the wreckage, the leader with him. They all began to lift their hands up and down at the marines, and the leader kept mumbling something. Finally, Dylan realized he was talking again.  
  
"We give up, no more kill," the slave leader pleaded with a tired look on his face. He knew he had been beaten, and now only hoped for mercy.  
  
"Well, what do you know?" Dylan commented. "Well, let's go. There's still all those aliens set free in the U.S, remember? Let's kill those aliens and get on."  
  
"NO!" the leader yelled. "We. help you kill, and we live," the leader offered his deal. If you can't beat them, join them.  
  
"What do you think, Dylan?" Adam asked. He took his rifle back and pointed it towards the beaten slaves, waiting for Dylan's order.  
  
Dylan himself now scratched his chin. On the other hand, the aliens were enemies, even if they offered to fight against themselves. It could be best to just kill them and go on. However, the marines' forces were dwindling, and some back-up would be useful. And besides, maybe they could negotiate some form of peace treaty.  
  
"Let them help us. I like him," Dylan said. He really admired the slave: he had fought really well up on the Osprey. He was a good representative of his race; it'd be a shame to kill him. "Come on, leader, I'll teach you a bit English while we get ready to finish off the other aliens." The leader stared in surprise at this sudden show of mercy. He took out his radio and began signaling his Apaches with new orders as his retinue boarded the Osprey.  
  
"Now look," Dylan explained as they flew off into the night. "Osprey," he patted the helicopter.  
  
"Osprey," the leader repeated. The two, marine and alien, smiled at each other. They had finally understood that conflict was not the only answer. But there were still some aliens who thought otherwise. But now they had formed a small-scale alliance, and even that was enough ground for a possible peace treaty. The alien Apaches, no longer sulking below the other helicopters, flew along the other helicopters, not being fired on after Dylan had explained the new situation.  
  
Yep, Dylan thought, the day hadn't been a total waste. "Rifle," he told, showing his M4, and the leader repeated.  
  
-----  
  
".the situation is still dark. The strange beings are spreading like a wildfire, but the military is able to keep them slightly contained. But it's only a matter of time until."  
  
Mr. Vladimir Putin turned off the TV in his office. The news flash was being shown on every channel, but Putin knew what was going on.  
  
"Well, I've done my deed," the President of Russia said in English to the shadows, "now, it's time for some well deserved payment."  
  
"Indeed," the Administrator nodded, stepping out of the shadows. He opened his briefcase and dropped a pile of notes onto Putin's desk. "Here are the plans for the experimental gluon gun and my thanks for contributing to the construction of the now removed Black Mesa."  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Administrator. But why did you want me to send Dimitri and his goons into the facility? I know that I was mad that I wasn't paid for my contribution, but I wouldn't have taken such measures if you hadn't asked."  
  
"I'm in the process of hiring new employees into my company. Mr. Eshtelkov seemed to be perfect for the job, but so were many others. I had to test him in Black Mesa, like I did to so many others. But Mr. Eshtelkov was not astute enough for the job. We have no need for headless people."  
  
"Forgive my asking, but what are you employing people for?"  
  
"I would love to tell you, Mr. Putin, but then I would have to kill you." The two laughed out loud, although both knew that he wasn't joking. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some pressing business," the Administrator said, looking at his diamond watch, and disappeared, leaving the President alone with the gluon gun plans. 


	13. Epilogue: Brave New World

Epilogue: Brave New World  
  
"Mr. Greshwald, you have some visitors," the nurse said as she stepped into the recreational room of the hospital.  
  
"Thank you," Greshwald said, turning away from the window. He liked sitting by the window. While the other patients played card or board games or just chatted, Greshwald preferred watching the birds in the nearby trees. But whenever he looked to the west, he could always see that never- ending dust cloud of war.  
  
Dylan, Adam and an alien slave stepped into the room. They were all wearing more casual clothes, except for the slave, who only wore a belt with some pouches. Greshwald waved at them and began to spin the wheels of his wheelchair towards them.  
  
"Greshwald, hey!" Dylan called. "Wow, you're looking much better since we brought you here Well, except for that wheelchair."  
  
"Heh, yeah. I'm stuck in this for life, you know? Gordon damaged my spinal column when he shot me. Can't work my legs anymore."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Adam said. The alien also nodded, but he had set his eyes on a nearby vending machine. He walked over there and signaled for a bottle of soft drink, then began to shuffle in the pouches of his belt. After a moment he was able to dig out some coins, but he immediately dropped them. He groaned and began to try to pick the coins up.  
  
"Well, Dylan, where've you been?" Greshwald asked, rolling away on his wheelchair, with the others along with him. The slave was finally able to pay for his drink and ran after them, trying to hold on to the bottle.  
  
"Fighting. It's been pretty rough, you know. The alien controllers took command and began to spawn new aliens. Those things produce pretty fast. Some have escaped overseas. It's now a world crisis. This is the only break we've got in a long while, and it only lasts for a day or two."  
  
"Cool. But what about those rebel slaves I saw on T.V? I thought they were helping you guys out," Greshwald asked. They walked into a small outdoor area. Dylan and Adam sat onto a bench while Greshwald drove next to them.  
  
"Yeah, well, some of the rebels still stayed with us. But most of them, along with their leader, you know, the one who I fought on the Osprey, went into hiding," Dylan shrugged. "We've broadcasted that we aren't going to hurt them, we even had some of our own rebels search for them, but they haven't showed up. And what few slaves we've got are definitely not enough to combat the other aliens."  
  
"Where are you gonna house all of those rebels?" Greshwald continued asking.  
  
"Well, the scientists are building a place in the Pacific for them. What was it called again, Adam?" Dylan asked.  
  
"Pacific Xen. It's being built to resemble the aliens' own home planet. It's gonna be a big bubble with weak gravity and everything," Adam answered.  
  
Greshwald nodded, but then turned to watch as the alien slave Dylan had come with fought to screw open the soft drink bottle. After prying for a moment, he shred the whole top of the bottle off. The slave just shrugged and drank from the permanently open bottle.  
  
"Who is he, anyway?" Greshwald asked, pointing to the slave.  
  
"Him? Oh, that's just Mudel," Dylan pointed to the slave. Mudel waved back. "He's learning to be our translator. You know, if we try to negotiate with the aliens."  
  
"Yes, I already can speak in plurals," Mudel proudly stated.  
  
"Me and Adam were taking him to teach him what a pizza is, when we thought it'd be nice to stop by and see you."  
  
"Well, I don't want to slow you guys down. It was nice to see you one more time, guys," Greshwald said.  
  
"That's what I wanted to talk about," Dylan said. "Greshwald, when you've recovered, I'd like it if you joined my group in the military again."  
  
Greshwald laughed out loud, then turned to look at his friend. "Dylan, look at me. I'm stuck on a damn wheelchair. For life! I'm no use to you!"  
  
"I know, but you know, you could still be a pilot! We're getting a Black Hawk soon, we could easily rig it to accommodate an invalid," Dylan tried to persuade.  
  
"Dylan, listen, I'm not really into fighting anymore. After I practically lost my legs back in Black Mesa, I didn't want to lose anything more. I'd rather not go and take those aliens on again."  
  
"Oh well," Dylan shrugged. "I can't force you. But I'll leave the offer up. We'll probably have another day off in a month or so, so think about it then. But now, we gotta go get something to eat. Bye, Greshwald." Then Dylan, Adam, and Mudel left for the parking lot.  
  
Greshwald started to go back to the recreational room, but as he traveled, he had a smile on his face. He fondly remembered that day, a few months ago, when he had passed boot camp and was almost immediately sent to Black Mesa as reinforcements. Although he had in a sense lost half of his body there, it had been a great experience. He knew what he would say to Dylan when he would come back in a month. He'd say yes.  
  
Now, the trickier part would be to actually GET him, crippled from the legs, back into the military.  
  
-----  
  
"Hey, could you go on without me?" Dylan asked. "I'll catch up with you soon. Here's some money for the pizza;" Dylan said and handed Adam some change, then took some flowers from the trunk of the car they had rented for their short break.  
  
"Sure, Dylan," Adam said and he and Mudel climbed into the car.  
  
"Where he going?" Mudel asked as Dylan walked off.  
  
"To the cemetery, to meet an old relative," Adam answered.  
  
Dylan walked into the cemetery built by the hospital and traversed through the tombstones. Soon he arrived at the one which he was looking for.  
  
"Here Lies Adam Henderson. May The Lord Forgive Him Of His Past Crimes And Take Him To His Side," the tombstone proudly stated. Dylan had thought it was a stroke of fortune that they had taken Greshwald to the same hospital where his brother had been buried. Dylan left the flowers in front of the stone and sat down. He usually found it easier to think of his problems when visiting his brother's grave.  
  
"I really failed you, didn't I?" Dylan spoke, unsure if his brother's spirit was listening to him or if he was just talking to a slab of granite. These days, anything seemed possible. "I know I only killed a scientist or two in the garage, but still, that was enough for me to fail. I tried to do good, like you, I really tried. I've been making up for it for these past few months, honest. But I dunno if fighting those aliens will ever make up for those few scientists."  
  
"I hope you can forgive me," Dylan said and stood up. He walked off to join his friends in the pizzeria, shaking his head.  
  
The Administrator stepped from behind a nearby tree and watched as Dylan walked away. Gullible fools were the easiest to manipulate. The Administrator would find use for the marine. Eventually, he would.  
  
THE END  
  
(Well, so I end my first fic. I hope you've liked reading it. And if anyone cares, I have been planning a sequel. Now I'd like your honest opinion, reviewers: would you like to see a sequel? I'm already warning in advance that it will not be based any longer on the games that much. While I could buy Half-Life 2 and accommodate the plot to fit with HL 2's plot, I doubt I'll get the game soon, if ever. Also, not all aliens will be bad guys, as suggested by the end.  
  
But for now, I'm going to be writing a good ol' fantasy story in the Dungeons & Dragons section. I've been a big fan of D&D and other RPG's since I was seven, so I've been planning on writing such a story for a while now. But now I'm going to ask that you'd all review and give me your opinion on a Mercy Is Not An Option 2. Thanks, bye.) 


End file.
